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FRED MITCHELL'S 
WAR STORY 



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THE AUTHOE 



Fred Mitchell's 
War Story 

THREE YEARS 
IN THE WAR ZONE 



BY 

Frederick Mitchell 



ILLLUSTRATED 




NEW YORK 

Alfred • A • Knopf 

1918 



COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY 
FREDERICK MITCHELL 



1 ^ 



SEP I3I9IE 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 






I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 
TO 

THE MOTHERS AND CHILDREN 
OF FRANCE 

Who have suffered untold agonies at the hands 

of the so-called German Kulturists and 

trust that it may he the means of 

bringing a little hope and joy 

into their hearts through 

the restoration of 

their homes. 



PREFACE 

My chief object in bringing out this volume of my 
experiences during the early part of the war has been 
to convey to American readers a true idea of what 
non-combatants in the invaded country, as well as 
close to the battle lines, were compelled to undergo. 

There has also been a wish on my part that this 
book may help me in bringing some slight measure of 
relief to many little orphans, most of whose parents I 
once knew, and to older but just as helpless sufferers. 

I vouch for the truth of everything I relate. It 
will be observed that these pages contain very little 
that is based on hearsay evidence. Nearly every- 
thing in them is the result of personal observation, 
purchased at a heavy cost in the way of danger and 
hardship. 

My happiness will be great if I can help a little to 
bring about a true realization of the menace which 
the German Empire, as at present constituted, is to 
the rest of humanity, and how absolutely necessary it 
is that its crushing power should be for ever broken. 

Fred Mitchell. 



CONTENTS 

PAGi: 

I The Breaking of the Storm 13 

II The Coming of the Tidal Wave 26 

III The Huns are on Us 40 

IV Learning a New Trade 52 
V I Become a Jack of All Trades 66 

VI I Prepare for a Journey 81 

VII Getting Through 89 

VIII Paris at Last 101 

IX The Loot Begins 117 

X Necks Again in Jeopardy 130 

XI A Country Aflame 143 

XII The Colonel is Captured — ^The Battle 154 

XIII In the Wake of the Storm 172 

XIV More "Kultur" 184 
XV A Prisoner Again 195 

XVI Free at Last 208 

XVII Home 222 

XVIII After All 231 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

The Author Frontispiece 

Fred Mitchell's Steeplechase Jockey Licence 24 

Fred Mitchell's Flat Race Jockey Licence 48 

Fred Mitchell's Certificate of Classification in the 

British Army 96 

Fred Mitchell's Permit to Remain in the War Zone 128 

Fred Mitchell's Fighting Son 160 

First page of Camet issued to Fred Mitchell by the 
Frendh Government granting him permission to 
travel in the War Zone 192 

Fred Mitchell's War Zone Passport 208 



CHAPTER I 

THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 

For twelve years I made my home in one of the 
garden spots of France, perhaps the fairest country, 
taking all in all, of those that men live in and are 
ready to die for. 

I was to see it invaded. The pleasant, kind-hearted 
people among whom I dwelt were to be changed, well- 
nigh overnight, into a terrified, hunted, harassed mob 
of starvelings, subject to the ill-will of brutal hordes. 
Villages whose steeples were in our purview were to 
be shattered into fire-blackened heaps. The glorious 
old trees of the roadside and the forest, some of which 
had witnessed invasions of the forebears of the mod- 
em Hun, were to lie prostrate or stand up, gaunt 
and leafless, struck by the lightning made of man. 

The country is a rolling one with great patches of 
forest where deer and boar still roam and in which 
great hunts follow baying hounds to the sound of the 
hunting horn. Every hill reveals a wonderful land- 
scape. Some valleys are occupied by racing tracks 
while in others the fertile ground is divided into fields 
where intensive cultivation brings plenteous crops. 

13 



14 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

Here and there the eye follows the course of the Oise, 
bordered by ancient willows and other century-old 
trees and winding its silvery course towards the Seine. 
Lakes there are also, on the banks of which are built 
villas and summer residences, while small streams 
pass through fields and pastures in which cattle fatten 
in the rich herbage. The roads are such as may be 
found in France only, extending out of sight between 
hedgerows or in a setting of straight poplars. 

Such is my impression of the land in which I made 
my home, when my thoughts go back to the days be- 
fore the war. But at present my idea of it is still 
confused. It is like a persistent and evil dream from 
which I cannot awaken. The rolling land is there, 
torn up by iron that was never made into plough- 
shares. Some of the forest survives, decimated by 
shells and axes that have sought material for the 
beams that roof over the trenches. My village es- 
caped destruction, but a mile or two to the north- 
ward brings one into devastation. And the young 
men are gone. Those who return will never be young 
again for they have been aged by suffering. Slowly 
old men and women, with those too young to fight, 
are grubbing among ruins for things they hid or for 
a few poor heirlooms that may still be of use, under 
crumbled stone and brick and plaster. 

I must here explain in a few words my selection of 
a residence in this district. It was the racing centre 



THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 15 

of France. To it came visitors from all parts of the 
world. Perhaps as many as a thousand thorough- 
breds were in training within ten or fifteen miles of 
my home. And I am a jockey by profession, an oc- 
cupation which my intense love of animals had caused 
me to supplement with the breeding and rearing of the 
best strains of dogs. 

I may here state that my profession had some bear- 
ing on the events I am about to relate. This occurred 
in specific instances which I shall mention further on, 
but my long training helped me a great deal. It may 
be admitted that a man who is to obtain continuous 
success as a rider must cultivate the habit of instant 
decision and he must face danger with a certain cool- 
ness. I do not imply that he must be braver than 
other men, for nothing is farther from my thoughts, 
but men who follow hazardous callings necessarily 
grow more callous than others in the presence of dan- 
ger, whether at sea or on land. It was the fact of my 
being somewhat accustomed to being in tight places 
which permitted me to carry out many of the under- 
takings that were thrust upon me. 

Lest readers unfamiliar with the risks of my occu- 
pation may think I am drawing a long bow I feel 
compelled to say that it is one looked upon with dis- 
favour by the insurance companies. Both my arms 
and legs have been broken at some time or other, with 
a scattering of fractures of more insignificant bones 



16 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

such as ribs and collar-bones. I was perhaps fa- 
voured in being a rather small man, having seldom 
weighed as much as a hundred pounds. Owing to 
this the average Hun could hardly deem me a very- 
dangerous individual. This may have had its disad- 
vantages since at times he probably reckoned me 
among the more helpless inhabitants and by this time 
we all know his invincible courage when faced by 
women and children. Bravery exists in all mankind 
and the German possesses his share of it. Alone 
among modem peoples, however, he has mingled it 
with the most arrant brutality, with unvarying arro- 
gance towards inferiors and with a well-nigh indecent 
obsequiousness in the presence of his superiors. 
Alone he also possesses the distinction of deeming 
women and children, as well as the aged, as an ele- 
ment which, in conquered lands, calls for his best ef- 
forts in the way of spreading terror. I wish it were 
possible even to hint at a tithe of the infamies he per- 
petrated among them. Throughout this book I shall 
be compelled at every turn to moderate my language. 
It is a necessity and yet one I must at times deplore. 
It is true that the tales I could unfold would not be fit 
for the ears of ladies or of the young, but at the same 
time it must be remembered that those outrages were 
inflicted upon women, of the highest and lowest, and 
upon innocent children such as yours and mine, such 
as you love from the innermost depths of your hearts. 



THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 17 

Soldiers of France and England have been found, 
crucified, but I may not tell the greater horrors their 
mothers and sisters were often compelled to undergo. 
Like other savage tribes, the Huns know many ways of 
causing their victims to cry out in agony for death to 
still their agonies and end their shame. 

So there I was, living with my wife and two chil- 
dren in a place which, at this distance from home, 
I can think of only as a sort of paradise on earth. 
While a jockey and working in the midst of an ele- 
ment in which the din of the betting-ring was ever 
present I had, from my earliest experience as a rider, 
made it an unalterable rule never to bet. Leading 
the quiet and moderate life compelled by constant 
training I had managed to save a fair share of all my 
earnings and reached a position of comfort such as 
is assured by a modest competence. My boy and girl 
went to school and spoke French like the natives, so 
that we had to insist on the use of English in the house, 
that they might not forget the language of their par- 
ents. The kennels were a constant source of pleasure 
to us. Nearly ninety inmates spoke to us in every 
variety of canine language, from the great deep voices 
of huge wolfhounds to the sharp yelpings of the tiniest 
toy-terriers. The many puppies were always a de- 
light. 

One day came the news of the murder of Austrian 
royalties by men who, although Austrian subjects, 



18 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

were to be deemed Serbians for the better furtherance 
of plans made by sinister crowned heads that had 
been getting ready. Any pretext would have served 
their purpose and this was seized upon eagerly. 
After this came the dull rumbling which, we are told, 
commonly portends an earthquake or cyclonic dis- 
turbances. It was something intangible that floated 
in the air like poison gas. 

On the peaceful little villages of northern France 
these rumours had not the slightest effect. It was as 
if the sun had been shining too brightly to allow little 
fleecy clouds to cast any shadows on them. The sea- 
son's holiday preparations were well under way; the 
racing meets occurred at stated intervals; the usual 
happy life was pulsing strongly over a world at peace. 
But a very few of us began to feel that something was 
impending. As for many years previously the coun- 
try swarmed with Germans occupying all sorts of posi- 
tions, following the race meets, sending out betting 
information, or appearing to belong to those leisure 
classes ever seeking for excitement. The largest fac- 
tory in Gouvieux, the village where I lived, was owned 
by Germans and manufactured flags. Most of the 
workmen were of their own people. 

A few days only before the declaration of the war, 
those of us who felt that something was in the wind 
sought out a few of those people. "Ach! A war! 
Never! Peace had lasted for over forty years be- 



THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 19 

tween Germany and France! Impossible that it 
should be broken! Were not the two countries ever 
growing nearer?" To this sort of thing we listened, 
very nearly until the end, and I may say that to a few 
those words brought comfort. I have no doubt that 
some of these Germans ignored the fact that war was 
bound to come, yet I firmly believe that still more 
were absolutely and utterly forewarned. 

A stable-boy of mine chanced to be a German. A 
willing and obliging fellow he proved and an abso- 
lute genius at language. It was only afterwards that 
we recollected that, on his arrival among us, he 
scarcely knew a word of French or English and that, 
strangely enough, he appeared in the course of a 
month to become a master of both languages. Three 
days before the war he came and told me he was go- 
ing to England, and we parted on the friendliest 
terms. When I next met him, as the reader will see, 
he had blossomed into something very different from 
the knight of the curry-comb. 

The fourth or fifth of July found us in Gouvieux, 
where I expected to remain until some time after the 
racing season, intending to exhibit important entries 
in some of the dog-shows. The value of some of this 
stock of mine was considerable. For an all-white 
French bulldog that had never been beaten in the 
show-ring I judged it proper to refuse an offer of four 
thousand dollars. Like many other of my possessions 



20 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

at thai time he had to be sacrificed later on. As the 
weather grew warm a part of my household decided 
to spend a few weeks at Ostend, in Belgium, while my 
son Freddie and I remained with the dogs. 

Getting dogs in their best form for exhibition rep- 
resents a great deal of work. In order to make ar- 
rangements to show about twenty-five of my animals 
I had to go to Paris and took my boy with me. There 
a brother-in-law of mine spoke very seriously about 
the possibility of war and asked me if I did not feel 
some anxiety on account of the members of my family 
who were in Belgium. Naturally enough I began to 
feel quite concerned over the matter. My wife had 
been invited to spend some time in Brussels, and it 
was there that the first and blackest war-clouds seemed 
to be gathering. The mobilization of German troops, 
it appeared, was under way. 

As soon as I could go back to Chantilly I took a 
bicycle and rode over to Gouvieux as fast as I could. 
I stopped at the telegraph office and wired to my wife, 
urging her immediate return and telling her to allow 
nothing to delay her. As soon as I had sent the mes- 
sage I sought out some of my friends and apprised 
them of the rumours of war between France and Ger- 
many, adding that Russia and Austria and Great 
Britain might also be added to the turmoil. My 
friends heard my news incredulously, or at any rate 
with the greatest surprise. Many of them utterly re- 



THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 21 

fused to believe in such a possibility and had any 
number of cogent reasons for their assertions. Re- 
turning to Paris on the following day, my brother-in- 
law again asked me anxiously if I had telegraphed to 
my wife. After I had reassured him he asked me to 
come over to his hotel to have a talk over the latest 
news he had obtained. When we reached the place 
he declared that he felt quite sure that war would be 
declared exceedingly soon, perhaps in less than twen- 
ty-four hours. He felt so certain of his information 
that I was compelled to realize the gravity of the 
situation and decided to return home immediately. 

When I reached my house I found, to my great re- 
lief, that my family had already started, but the tele- 
gram gave me no information in regard to the time 
of their arrival. Riding over to Chantilly I made in- 
quiries at the railway station, asking how long the 
journey was from Brussels to this place. I was some- 
what taken aback when they informed me that it 
would be impossible for my wife to arrive before the 
following day at six o'clock in the evening. If she 
should unfortunately miss that train, they told me, an- 
other twenty-four hours' delay must occur. At this 
time, I may state, war had not yet been declared, and 
I was compelled to go to Paris at once, on business. 

I had hardly stepped off the train before I heard 
the newsboys crying out: "War Declared!!" Men 
and women lifted their hands up towards the skies. I 



22 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

heard one or two tremendous oaths. For the most 
part the people looked staggered, stupefied, mesmer- 
ized. The calamity seemed to have caught them ut- 
terly unprepared. Till the last moment there had 
been hope. There had been the impression that this 
was another one of those recurring cries of "Wolf!" 
that would again turn out to be based on vague fears 
and idle rumours. The menace had been there, for 
several days, but the reality stunned them. Nor was 
it through lack of courage that they first bent their 
heads under the blow. Old men had told me of the 
days, forty years before, when the populace had 
shrieked "On to Berlin." This time there were no 
such boastful words. One felt that the first blast once 
passed would give way to a tremendous, sturdy, well- 
nigh silent push, in which every man would seek to 
do his duty and every woman would seek to uphold 
him. The great heart of France was throbbing faster, 
I daresay, but already it was pulsing with the blood of 
men who have proved their heroism, over and over 
again. 

I hurriedly attended to my business, taking but a 
few minutes for my lunch, and rushed off home again. 
When I reached my station I announced the news but 
already it had spread like wildfire. Most of the 
people, however, ignored that the war had been of- 
ficially and irrevocably declared. The alarm was 
great among the townspeople, while in the smaller vil- 



THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 23 

lages all looked excited and upset. They surrounded 
me, knowing that I was an Englishman, and eagerly- 
inquired whether my country would join theirs. I 
shouted to them that England had given her word and 
would fight to the last man. So great was their en- 
thusiasm and relief that it was with some difficulty 
that I escaped their most friendly mobbing. 

Later on, in the evening, I went over to Chantilly 
to await the arrival of the train which, I hoped, would 
bring my wife and daughter back. My joy was in- 
tense when the cars clattered in and I saw them, for 
my anxiety had been great indeed. At home she told 
me all that she had undergone in her efforts to get 
away. There had been a very Babel of eager, anx- 
ious, bewildered people all striving to return to 
their respective countries — many Germans included. 
When she managed to reach the frontier, where all 
luggage had to be examined, the controller warned 
her that if she remained long enough to have her 
trunks looked over she would certainly lose her train. 
Very kindly he offered to look after them and have 
them forwarded to Paris, where he would send the 
keys and where she could claim her belongings. She 
was glad to avail herself of his good-natured offer in 
order to avoid being delayed. 

Her concern was great in regard to her cousin and 
his family in Brussels. The outlook for them was 
threatening. He had an exceedingly nice home there 



24 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

and a flourishing business. The daughter was six- 
teen and his son one year older. 

Every one in Brussels had commented on the fact 
that a great many English sailors were there on per- 
mission, enjoying a holiday from their ships anchored 
in Belgian ports. My wife had seen them there but 
two days before the declaration of war. 

For a very long time we never heard about her 
cousin. It was at least a year afterwards that we 
learned of his adventures. When the Germans came 
he had been interned with all other British subjects. 
He soon managed however to inspire some confidence 
on the part of the invaders and at last was allowed to 
move about, under rigid restrictions. By degrees the 
family worked its way towards the frontier, where the 
father fell in with a band of smugglers. His son 
and he, alternately, accompanied them on some of 
their trips across. They also worked in die fields, 
cutting cabbages and turnips and helping prepare such 
merchandise for the markets. The father was finally 
allowed to drive a horse and cart used in transporting 
the vegetables and other foodstuff's, assisting a farmer 
to carry his goods and dispose of them in Holland. 
During all this time the family was in severe straits 
for lack of food. They were compelled to sleep in 
the fields, like outcasts, and lived on whatever they 
could poach and on such vegetables as they could pick 
up. Gradually they became well known to the guards 



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THE BREAKING OF THE STORM 25 

at the frontier and the man was allowed to go back 
and forth, finally also obtaining permission for his 
son to accompany him. They made a number of 
trips and at last arranged with some smugglers to 
see that the horse and cart were returned to the farmer, 
who had befriended them. They suffered keenly 
from want for three weeks before they could obtain 
funds to permit their escape to England. Their ex- 
perience is related because it was typical of the ad- 
ventures that befell hosts of people who were caught 
in the advancing flood and suddenly reduced from 
affluence to dire poverty. 



CHAPTER II 

THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 

Very soon the people of the village began to gather 
about my house, seeking advice. Every able-bodied 
man had been summoned away to the colours and this 
sifting out of the strong left a population which, for 
the greater part, seemed pathetically helpless and de- 
pendent on others. Time and again I was eagerly 
asked whether England would stand by France, her 
ally, and I kept on repeating my assurances that her 
word was even better than her bond and that they must 
share my faith in her. 

The storm was not upon us yet, nor did its fury- 
reach us for some weeks. But we all felt that it was 
moving towards us, irresistibly, like the waters of a 
dam that has burst, which are sweeping through the 
valleys, engulfing everything in their path. 

To our little village came the news of fighting in 
Belgium. At first there were hopeful rumours of a 
tremendous slaughter of the enemy, of magnificent 
repulses. But such tales, originating Heaven knows 
where, gave place to the assurance that the Huns were 

26 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 27 

advancing and progressing daily, shattering what had 
been deemed impregnable fortresses and spreading 
terror over the land, methodically, with malice afore- 
thought, plainly showing that rapine and murder and 
rape were part and parcel of the unchanged force that 
had been kept in leash during forty years, awaiting 
"The Day!" 

We then heard that the fighting had reached the 
frontier and was coming nearer. It struck me like a 
blow to hear in Paris, one afternoon, that the hordes 
we believed had been held up by the Belgians were 
swarming through Brussels and advancing against 
Antwerp. The distance between the Huns and our- 
selves was lessening hour by hour, and when I reached 
home again, that day, I found that my wife had he^rd 
the news and was making every preparation to leave. 

In my paddocks there were eighty-seven dogs, which 
at a fairly low estimate were worth a hundred thou- 
sand dollars, for among them were prize-winners 
famed all over Europe. They represented the greater 
part of all I owned and I could not bear to leave them. 
I felt compelled to tell my wife that she must go with- 
out me since I would have to remain and take care of 
them. But I had not reckoned with a woman's faith 
and loyalty. She refused to hear of leaving me. 
Many of our nearest neighbours began to depart and 
a number of them, hearing of my decision, brought 
valuable dogs to me and begged me to look after them. 



28 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

Since the village was empty of serviceable men and 
utterly miprotected I went to the mayor of the town 
and offered my assistance, declaring that I would be ^ 
only too glad to be put to any needed use. My slen- 
der weight utterly unfitted me for soldiering and the 
mayor was greatly pleased to avail himself of my 
offer. He proposed that I should do police duty, in 
which I was joined by several gentlemen of the place. 
For a long time, therefore, we patrolled the various 
districts at night, each man working every other day 
from nine to half -past four in the morning. 

All the owners and trainers of the surrounding 
country had received notice that their horses must 
at once be presented for service in the army. A very 
large number of valuable animals were taken and of 
course sacrificed at the very lowest figures. None 
that I ever heard of hesitated in the performance of 
this patriotic duty. Away they went, animals that 
had won the greatest stakes and whose records and 
breeding were matters of knowledge wherever racing 
is conducted. While the loss was bravely accepted, 
many hearts were grieving at the idea of these won- 
derful animals being sent away to serve as targets for 
the advancing guns. Men who live very constantly 
with animals cannot help feeling a personal and 
friendly interest in them. To many of us it was as 
if some close relatives had been led off to gasp their 
lives away on bloody fields. Still, men were offering 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 29 

all they had for the best interest of the nation, all over 
France and England, and doing it cheerfully for the 
sake of right against might. 

Closely followed the announcement that in two 
days no more trains would run from Chantilly to Paris 
as all bridges and culverts were to be blown up owing 
to the nearness of the enemy. We felt that we were 
being cut off from the great city, and I immediately 
journeyed there to procure all the dog-biscuits I could 
buy. I was successful in obtaining assurance, at the 
factory, that they would at once ship all the available 
supply to the Gare du Nord. I then thought of a 
most valuable bulldog I had at Pont de Crenelle, close 
to the Eiffel Tower, and went there for it. Since 
dogs are forbidden access to street-cars I was com- 
pelled to get a taxicab, owing to the great distance. 
But I had to wait for it a long time and, as I stood 
in the street, I heard the crashing of guns. Running 
to the bridge over the Seine we saw that the pieces 
mounted on the tower were firing at a German aero- 
plane that was flying above the river. This, I have 
heard, was the first plane that came over Paris from 
the enemy's lines. The excitement finally died away 
and we obtained our cab at last. 

As we landed in Chantilly we were surprised to 
see hundreds of people crowding in and about the 
station. I wondered what could have happened to 
bring such an unusual number there. It reminded 



30 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

one of the affluence on the days of great races. The 
moment I reached the platform I saw that faces wore 
expressions of concern and worry greater by far than 
those ever shown by losers at the tracks. A good 
many of these people who were acquainted with me 
came and asked me anxiously if I did not fear for 
my wife and daughter. Breathlessly they advised me 
to rush home as fast as I could and bring my folks 
at once to the station, since the very last train to 
Paris was expected in a few minutes. Their excited 
words did not affect me much, however, since I had 
already decided upon my future movements. For a 
moment I stopped to look at them. Many were fel- 
low-countrymen of mine and chiefly interested in the 
racing establishments. Their wives and children 
were with them. Some showed evidence of hasty 
dressing. They all bore bags and cases and parcels 
without number. It was more like a rout, like a flee- 
ing before impending disaster, than like the prepara- 
tion for an ordinary journey. Such scenes were re- 
peated all over lines extending for hundreds of miles 
over which anxious men, haggard women and their 
weeping children seemed to be escaping from a 
plague. 

When I reached my house I found four bicycles 
resting on the wall outside the door, all packed up and 
ready for a voyage. As I went in my wife asked me 
if I would have something to eat before we left. I 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 31 

asked where we were going and she replied that we 
were leaving for Paris. When I told her that the last 
train had gone she answered that it was for this reason 
that the bicycles had been made ready. I explained 
again how impossible it was for me to leave, and 
urged her to go and take the children with her. I 
simply could not leave all my beautiful dogs to the 
mercies of the Germans. Mrs. Mitchell asked me if 
I could not put a lot of biscuits in the paddocks and 
leave an abundance of water, but I was compelled to 
tell her that this would not do and again begged her 
to go. Again, however, she refused to leave without 
me, preferring to run all risks with me to the alterna- 
tive of being separated. 

Here I may say that it is my firm belief that at the 
beginning of the war Germany was so eager to get to 
Paris that she overlooked her greatest opportunity. 
She already had a small army in France, awaiting the 
word, and every town and village swarmed with her 
people, employed in a host of trades and occupations, 
underbidding the native labour, penetrating into every 
nook and comer. A vast number of them were spies 
or, if not regularly employed as such, were ready to 
give information to the invaders. Many of those who 
had lived among us returned as soldiers, knowing 
every bit of the ground. It turned out that this, in 
a way, proved fortunate for me. No praise can be 
too great for the Belgians who, hopelessly outnum- 



32 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

bered at the start, managed to resist so bravely and 
to gain time. Before the French could come to their 
help Brussels and Antwerp had fallen, but it was at 
this time that the French began also to show their 
wonderful bravery. They were fighting against the 
most tremendous odds, utterly unprepared against an 
enemy armed to the teeth, thoroughly provisioned, 
and possessing the advantage of a first successful and 
devastating advance. At this time occurred the mis- 
take of which I have just spoken. If the German 
army already in France had not rushed to Paris, which 
it already saw in its grasp, but had instead turned 
about and outflanked the French, a tremendous part of 
the fighting line of the latter might have been shat- 
tered. 

Week by week we expected the flood to reach us, but 
about four of them went by before the first waves 
came. During this interval we toiled hard indeed. 
Those who had not already left were preparing for 
their departure, reluctant to go away before they were 
actually compelled to do so. Everywhere they were 
hiding and burying valuables they were unable to 
take away with them. In the later days some went off" 
so hurriedly that they forgot to inform me that they 
had placed their dogs in my kennels, and I kept on 
finding strange animals among my own, till I felt as 
if I had been in charge of an asylum. 

By this time communications were entirely broken 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 33 

and we began to feel the need of food. I was forced 
to kill some of my livestock, and particularly the pigs, 
which we smoked as best we could under the circum- 
stances. This accumulation of food I placed in a 
great cave that was under the church and which was 
to shelter many unfortunates during the hard days to 
come, and undoubtedly to save some lives. This cave 
had not been used for so many years that not even the 
priest was aware of its existence. It was only when 
searching for a place to conceal our things in that I 
came across it, aided by the recollections of an ancient 
inhabitant, who pointed out to me a remarkable door, 
bricked and plastered over, which we finally managed 
to open. Great pillars stood in it, which could only 
be dimly seen when the door was open as there were 
no windows or other openings. It contained nothing 
but an accumulation of cobwebs that must have been 
one of the greatest on record, and extended far be- 
yond the church under my own ground. 

The priest was an excellent man, greatly loved by 
most of the villagers. One day when my son and I 
were anxiously discussing what we should do with the 
large influx of strange dogs, and how we could pos- 
sibly feed them in addition to our own large collec- 
tion, he came out of the church, telling me that he had 
heard that I intended to remain in Gouvieux. He 
wanted to know if this was true and was evidently 
greatly pleased when I confirmed this statement. 



34 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

I had to go over to the chateau of a friend, Mr. 

B , who had informed me that he was about to 

leave for Dinart in his automobile. He asked me to 
be good enough to look after his place a little, ex- 
plaining that he had left an old caretaker to look after 
a part of the house, the remainder being in charge of 

a man and two youths. Mr. B had two horses 

that had been rejected by the government, and on the 
next day I went over and turned them out in a field. 
I also explained to the old woman and the men how 
they should behave when the Germans arrived, since 
they were expected at any time. On that evening the 
old lady hurried into my house, explaining that the 
men had left with bag and baggage. She was terror- 
stricken at the idea of remaining alone and I had to 
tell her that I would send my son to stay during the 
night at the chateau, until I could make some better 
arrangement. 

On the next day I was compelled to go to Paris, 
on my bicycle, since there was no other means of 
travel. I returned on the morrow and was besieged 
by anxious enquirers for news, who eagerly scanned 
the few papers I had brought back. The information 
was not encouraging, and on the next day the village 
was nearly deserted. Again it seemed as if some ter- 
rible epidemic had wiped out most of the people. I 
went to the Mairie, where I asked the official if there 
was anything I could do, volunteering to serve him in 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 35 

any way that might be in my power. After this I 
rode over to Chantilly, meeting many horses on my 
way. They were being ridden away to a more south- 
ern section of the comitry, taking journeys of ten or 
fifteen days — many of these animals had been the 
pride of France. 

In this town I also found everything silent and 
deserted. I could hardly realize that I was not 
dreaming. On my way up the main street it seemed 
ghostly to see all the shops and stables locked up. 
Now and then some disconsolate-looking individual 
seemed to be roaming about, aimlessly. Upon my re- 
turn I called upon an old friend who had charge of 
an important stable in Gouvieux. We discussed the 
black prospects that lay before us and I left him. He 
will again be mentioned in these pages. 

By this time all telegraphic and telephone com- 
munications had been cut. The fine bridges at Creil, 
Pontoise, Pressy, Boran and Senlis had been blown 
up into wreckage. I began making my rounds of va- 
rious houses. The keys had been left at the mayor's 
office, and we arranged to bury as many of the valu- 
able contents as we could. It was thought best to put 
all the silverware and jewellery we could find under 
about four feet of earth dug up in chickenyards and 
runs, since these fowl would soon cover up the ground 
and hide the fact that it had been tampered with. We 
had some arduous toil over this job, my son and an- 



36 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

other man helping me. In some of the places, un- 
fortunately, all the feathered inhabitants had disap- 
peared. I brought over some of my own chickens 
and placed them in those yards, to conceal as well as 
possible all traces of our work. 

On other days I went the rounds of various houses 
and chateaux in which caretakers had been left in 
charge. Most of the latter, however, had followed the 
general example and disappeared. I found that 
many poor animals had been abandoned, some of 
them being locked in and unable to come out. Most 
of them, of course, were starving. It was a bitter 
sight to see such suffering, through no fault of the 
owners. Over walls and fences we had to scramble 
to drop poisoned food that would promptly end this 
misery. It may easily be conceived that such a duty 
was .painful indeed to one who had always loved ani- 
mals. It actually made me ill to think of all the 
splendid creatures that must be destroyed, and to 
think that fate had made me their executioner. All 
this, however, was but a very small beginning of the 
dreadful sights I was soon to have thrust upoi) me, 
night and day, during a long period that shall always 
remain before me like some hideous nightmare that 
will not pass away. 

Rumours of the impending arrival of the Germans 
were becoming more and more persistent, and I de- 
cided to carry all the food I could procure, with all 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 37 

the beds and bedding I could put my hands on, in 
the old cave. Into it went also a motley collection of 
articles of household use, cooking utensils, stoves and 
every other thing we thought might be needed, I in- 
vited most of the remaining inhabitants to come and 
see our preparations. Some corners I partitioned off 
for the use of my family, but others constantly made 
use of the cave, later on, and it was seldom that 
close to a score did not pass anxious nights there, 
when the storm finally broke upon us. We had rea- 
son indeed to feel worried. Tales of the ferocious 
brutality of the invaders were coming constantly to 
our ears, and I must say that they were seldom exag- 
gerated. It would indeed have required powerful 
imaginations to conceive anything worse than that 
which really happened, and of which I was destined 
to behold my share. 

I was again called to the mayor's office. He made 
a demand for all the firearms, ammunition, and 
weapons of any kind in the possession of the inhabi- 
tants. The peremptory orders were that all such ma- 
terial should at once be brought to the Mairie by every 
person in the Commune, to be put away with all keys 
to empty dwellings. This last precaution was for the 
purpose of preventing the soldiers from breaking into 
such houses as were locked up. They would only 
have to apply at the mayor's office in order to be able 
to enter any premises they desired to occupy. 



38 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

Word was also sent to all the inhabitants, giving 
rules and advice as to their behaviour. Full instruc- 
tions were furnished as to how they should act 
throughout the five villages of our neighbourhood. It 
is true that our own was saved from destruction, but 
these measures, loyally and honestly carried out 
throughout the invaded country, according to the 
rules of civilized warfare, safeguarded but an in- 
finitesimal proportion of houses from pillage, and of 
inhabitants from wanton insult and injury. 

We were told to store our provisions in the most 
secret places we could find, since there was no way on 
earth of obtaining any more. Money was out of the 
question. With all communications interrupted it 
could buy nothing. In fact, most of the inhabitants 
buried their little hoards of silver with their other val- 
uables. 

From time to time people who formed a sort of 
vanguard of the refugees who were soon to pour down 
on us would clatter through the village in rickety 
carts, or pedal on with their wheels, or ride nags of 
all degrees. Strangers to us they were, and on their 
faces apprehension was stamped, indelibly, and as 
they passed by they shouted to us that the Boches were 
getting nearer. Some would stop for a moment's rest 
and speak of horrors, or swallow a little of the food 
they had brought with them, hurriedly looking ever 



THE COMING OF THE TIDAL WAVE 39 

and anon to the northward as if the enemy had been 
on their heels. 

A few little children played before some of the 
houses, unconscious of danger, their laughter sound- 
ing oddly amid the general stillness of people whom 
the coming peril seemed to impel to speak in low 
voices. But their mothers would call them back, 
fearing that they might stray out of their sight and 
that the baby-killing bayonets would be upon them^ a 
fear but too well justified in numberless instances. 

In this way the four weeks I have mentioned went 
by, day by day and hour by hour, each second bring- 
ing the devastating flood nearer. It is no wonder that 
only the babies laughed, and only the puppies in my 
kennels could give an impression of the carefree life 
that had hitherto been ours. Every man and woman 
able to think looked sombrely at the future. Nor was 
it altogether fear. It was not the conduct of cowards. 
Rather was it the indignation of liberty-loving souls 
against an enslaving horde, and horror of a soldiery 
whose passage was always a defilement, even when 
they occasionally neglected to fire a dwelling or loot 
it from top to bottom. No, I think it may truly be 
said that it was not fear that moved us, but the awe 
with which people expect to see something monstrous 
and unspeakable. 



CHAPTER III 

THE HUNS ARE ON US 

One of the most familiar pictures of our boyhood's 
days represented an annihilating fire sweeping over 
vast prairies. Before the scorching blast fled hosts 
of animals. The very ground seemed to thunder be- 
neath the hooves of maddened horses, of buff'aloes 
and of smaller wild things. The very birds, in 
clouds, winged their flight away from the burning. 

A few days before the Huns arrived the same pic- 
ture was reproducing itself in the panic that drove a 
bewildered population into our little villages, where 
they only stopped for an instant if their exhaustion 
was too great for them to remain on their feet. And 
ever it must be remembered that it was not cowardice 
that drove them, but the prospect of utter starvation, 
of the levelling of their homes to the ground, of the 
pillage that would leave them well-nigh naked, with 
never a crust of bread or a drop of milk for the young. 
Before the sweeping advance of the enemy all means 
of livelihood vanished in the smoke of the fires me- 
thodically kindled in homes without number and in 

40 



THE HUNS ARE ON US 41 

the disappearance of every animal and even of every 
fowl upon which the soldiers fell, hungrily and waste- 
fully, slaughtering whatever they could not immedi- 
ately use and leaving the festering bodies to add their 
stench to the acrid clouds rising from smouldering 
homes. 

In hundreds came these poor people from all parts 
of the Northwest of France, and from Belgium. 
Some of them had gaunt and starving horses drawing 
carts, or donkeys and mules. Others drove sturdy 
Belgian dogs attached to their little two-wheeled carts, 
who pushed into their collars with tongues lolling from 
their mouths. Folks less well provided wearily 
pushed wheel-barrows, hand carts and even baby-car- 
riages, piled up high with poor belongings they were 
seeking to save. Chiefly these destitute people con- 
sisted of women and children, though a few youths, 
up to fourteen or fifteen, and some old men, trudged 
on with them, bearing loads of all kinds. Now and 
then a cow would be driven along, often bellowing 
with fatigue and thirst. Smaller animals, such as 
rabbits, were being borne along, with fowls and other 
things that might serve as food. Many of these un- 
fortunates had only left their homes after they had 
been in flames and were deprived of the most neces- 
sary articles. The bareheaded were as numerous as 
those who possessed some sort of covering. Others 
were without shoes or wore the scantiest clothing. 



42^ FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

Men and women that looked like scarecrows dragged 
along exhausted children, or bore in their arms poor 
little babies that were practically starving. A few 
of the more fortunate infants had been laid in wheel- 
barrows, among other rescued flotsam of the tidal 
wave. Indeed it was a pathetic sight. Nor was their 
arrival in one of our villages a means of recruiting 
their strength by rest and food. The former of these 
was out of the question, as long as they had strength 
to continue their flight, and the villagers themselves 
had long before their arrival begun to go hungry. 
These refugees were forced to live upon whatever 
they could gather by the roadside — turnips or such 
other vegetables or fruit as they could pick up. 

Hardly one of them ever knew whither he was 
bound. The only thing they knew was that a possi- 
bility of safety lay to the southward and the eastward. 
They were mere objects floating irresponsibly at the 
behest of an unknown tide and borne along merely by 
the hope that somewhere, anywhere, they might find 
means of stilling their hunger and laying down their 
weary heads. Paris lay before them, they knew, and 
in its direction they trudged on, trusting that the great 
city might feed them. Of shelter they found little or 
none. When night came they would sleep in the fields 
or at the side of the road. 

As the days wore on the people flowing through our 
place were more and more exhausted and footsore. 



THE HUNS ARE ON US 43 

Those we questioned had dreadful or pitiful tales of 
the treatment meted out to them by the invaders, and 
always they felt that these men were hot in pursuit so 
that, after a few minutes of rest, they would stagger 
again to their feet and march on. 

Nor must it be thought that these people all repre- 
sented the poor and lowly or those inured to hardship 
and strenuous toil. Fortune had played many pranks 
upon them. With fine shoes falling to pieces a lady 
might trudge by, as brave as the rest, who had but 
a week before ridden in her automobile. Some who 
had employed a retinue of servants grubbed in the 
fields for overlooked edible roots. Among them were 
owners of villas and chateaus, people who had known 
want only by hearsay and had possessed large for- 
tunes and fine estates. At this time they formed a 
democracy of suffering, a republic of hunger and 
carking anxiety, to whom the morrow could bring but 
more pain and starvation which they would have to 
endure till they reached some place of safety, far over 
there towards the setting sun. 

It may easily be conceived that our few remaining 
villagers were upset and terrified at these sights and 
at the constant reports of German outrages. The re- 
sults of them were there, before their eyes, told by 
people who had gone through a very hell of suffering 
and bore its marks. And always there was the tale 
of those who had been left behind, unable to join 



44 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

the flight. Cripples and other helpless beings had 
been burned to death in their homes. Only those able 
to walk all day and part of the night had escaped. 
Some had tried but had fallen by the wayside, far 
from home, unable to take another step, and they had 
been engulfed. 

Among the hosts of poor creatures whose desolate 
progress we witnessed I recall a woman showing evi- 
dence of former ease and refinement. She staggered 
to our house, bearing two little babies — ^twins — in her 
arms, and implored us to give her a little milk for 
them. Fortunately we had a small supply which my 
wife let her have. A few dog-discuits had been left 
on our table and she was delighted to take them for 
her little ones. I need not say that people accepted 
such things, and would have taken even much coarser 
food, with the greatest eagerness. Many of them had 
travelled as far as 170 kilometres — about 125 miles 
— walking day and night and practically without a 
thing to eat. In order to allow this poor woman to 
rest for a moment I took her babies on my knees. 
They were far from satisfied as yet and I bethought 
myself of a bit of bacon rind in a cupboard. I cut 
it in two and they chewed away at it, ravenously. 

My readers, like thousands of other people the 
world over, may wonder how it was possible for the 
Germans to occupy so quickly, and to be so unerringly 
acquainted, with all the districts through which they 



THE HUNS ARE ON US 45 

passed. But I have already said that before the war 
they had swarmed all over these places. Hundreds 
and even thousands of them were ready, in all the 
quarries and the racing centres, in the champagne dis- 
tricts, in shops and factories. It ,is not to be won- 
dered at that the poor inhabitants were amazed to see 
them pouring down on them so soon. They had been 
ready and fully equipped for a long time. Among 
the first soldiers to pass through our place I noticed 
a man who had been working in the German flag- 
factory in Gouvieux. This was but one case among 
thousands which accounted for their familiarity with 
the spots they invaded and their perfect knowledge of 
roads and even paths. They knew every village and 
every house as well as the inhabitants themselves and 
were able to lay hands immediately on all provisions 
and other things that could serve their purposes. 
Myriads of places were stripped of the slightest thing 
of any value, even if they chanced to escape incen- 
diarism. Bare walls only were left, with all contents 
thrown out of windows and smashed to bits, wantonly. 
Finally came an evening I shall always remember. 
It was about half past eight. The country-side was 
still, in its peace of a nearly deserted land. My wife 
left the house in order to go and see an acquaintance 
who lived perhaps five hundred yards away from us, 
and spent a short time there. On her return with her 
friend they noticed a lot of soldiers standing in front 



46 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

of the mayor's office. It was difficult to distinguish 
them among the many trees growing in the square in 
front of the building, and my wife gained the impres- 
sion that they were English troops. Curious to see 
them more plainly she went up close to them, where- 
upon one of the men shouted at her, in German, ask- 
ing her roughly what she wanted. She naturally did 
not stop to answer, hurrying directly home with her 
friend. I saw that she had been badly frightened, as 
she announced to me that there must be at least five 
hundred of the Huns on the square. 

My first impulse was to disbelieve such news. I 
told her that she had doubtless been in error, hoping 
thus to quiet her alarm. But she insisted that she was 
right and I felt that she could not be mistaken. 

We stood out on the doorsill, watching eagerly and 
wondering what was about to happen. Presently 
about a hundred passed before us, mounted on bi- 
cycles, as we stood and stared at them. It was a 
sleepless night that we spent, knowing that the flood of 
invasion had reached us and was pouring on farther. 
Constantly we expected to hear them pounding at our 
door. I cannot say that I was afraid but in my heart 
there was doubt and apprehension on account of my 
wife and children. They bore themselves bravely, 
however, and the long night wore on. 

On the following morning we were up at break of 
day, wondering what was in store for us. The bell 



THE HUNS ARE ON US 47 

suddenly rang and I went to the door, to be met with 
a revolver covering me and held by an officer. In ex- 
cellent English he addressed me : 

'•Oh! Is that you, Mitchell?" 

I answered that he was not mistaken and he ques- 
tioned me again: 

"Do you know me?" 

"I'm afraid I don't, in those clothes," I replied, 
realizing that there was something familiar in the 
man's face. 

At this he mentioned a couple of race-horses I 
knew, and suddenly I recognized him perfectly. My 
surprise was great indeed, for he had been nothing but 
an ordinary stableman, feeding and grooming horses 
and at the beck and call of every trainer and jockey. 
He had been employed in one of the leading racing 
establishments of France, belonging to the Roths- 
childs. 

He asked me if I had any bread and I was obliged 
to acknowledge that I had a little. At this time there 
was but one baker's shop in the village that was open. 
An old man with a son of fourteen were the only two 
left in the place. They had sought to do the work 
for all the remaining inhabitants, but, thus short 
handed, had been hard put to it to turn out the needed 
amount. This, naturally, had limited the supply to 
rather small rations. I told the officer that he could 
have half my share, and then he asked me what drink- 



48 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

ables I possessed. I replied that I had a little Eng- 
lish beer and a few bottles of stout, with some white 
and red wine, telling him that he could help himself 
to it. He ordered one of his men to go down into my 
cellar and bring out three bottles of stout, which I 
opened. He ordered me to drink also and was rais- 
ing his glass to his lips when the soldier urged him to 
be careful and to make me drink from the glass be- 
fore he touched it. The colonel, for I discovered 
that the former cleaner of stables held no less ex- 
alted a rank, waved him aside. 

"No," he declared. "I know that I can trust 
Mitchell." 

So we naturally drank the stuff, after which the 
colonel left, his man bearing away stout, beer and 
wine, with a couple of pounds of bread, and I heard 
nothing more from them until about midnight. I 
had decided that it would be best for me not to go 
to bed, and when I so informed my wife she declared 
her intention of remaining up with me. I could only 
tell her that she might do as she wished, but that I felt 
compelled to remain on the watch to see if I could 
possibly save or help any one. Chance had brought 
about this meeting with a man I knew, and who seemed 
to be fairly well disposed towards me, and I thought 
my acquaintance with him might help us or some of 
our friends out of trouble. Hence we kept up our 
vigil together. I took the time to make a short visit 








s 

Q 
-^ 

H 
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W 
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^*«i »i <*>s*: ; •-.«; t 



THE HUNS ARE ON US 49 

to the cave under the church, which could be reached 
from one of my own yards, to see that all was well 
there. 

I recall very clearly what a wonderful night it was, 
with the moon shining brightly. In its light I could 
plainly see the clock on the steeple of the church, 
some 125 yards away. 

I had only sat down again a few minutes when my 
wife, in a low voice, declared that some one was climb- 
ing up to the window. 

I immediately seized a revolver I had hidden, but 
my wife implored me to put it away again since we 
might all be killed if I should use it or even if it 
was seen in my hand. I concluded that her advice 
was wise and so I merely looked through the window 
to see what was going on. Outside my front door, 
and well above it, there was a signboard. A German 
soldier was stooping down, and a second one perched 
upon his back was holding up a third, who was busily 
engaged in carving something upon the sign. I after- 
wards found out that it helped protect the house and 
its inmates from injury. 

My acquaintance, the colonel, was entirely familiar 
with every inch of ground in and about my land and 
house. While I had been riding he had practically 
been my valet during much of the time, and he had 
looked after the horses I used to ride over to various 
tracks and stables or to the hunts. I had known him 



50 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

only as the most ordinary stable-hand and was natur- 
ally amazed and bewildered at seeing him blossom 
out so swiftly in resplendent uniform and in high 
command. His perfect knowledge of his surround- 
ings seemed to be shared by his men. They never 
took the trouble to ask or hunt for anything they 
wanted, knowing unerringly where they could lay 
hands on it. Thus was the enemy ready and utterly 
familiar with nearly every foot of the land of France 
and Belgium. He had really been invading these 
countries and carrying on a form of warfare against 
them during all these years of peace. They had pre- 
pared for every eventuality they could imagine and 
left nothing to chance. The junkers of Germany, too 
noble and grand a class to toil at honest work in their 
own land, in spite of their being a poverty stricken lot 
as a rule and to whom service in the army is the only 
occupation worthy of their grandeur, are only too 
glad to accept menial work in foreign parts as long 
as they can serve their Kaiser and country by acting 
as spies with the hope of one day biting the hands 
that have fed them. 

Here I must acknowledge the fact that my German 
acquaintance acted towards me in a rather kindly 
manner. I have always sought to maintain pleasant 
relations with the people who worked for me, and he 
had never received any but the best usage at my hands. 
Doubtless he also considered that I would probably be 



THE HUNS ARE ON US 51 

i 
of some assistance to him. Perforce this turned out ! 

to be the case, in a good many instances, and such ill- ■ 

will as I may bear to him is only directed to the in- j 

famous system he helped to uphold. j 



CHAPTER IV 

LEARNING A NEW TRADE 

On the following day I heard some men marching 
by and, looking out, I saw twenty or thirty German 
soldiers who were passing my house. To my intense 
surprise they all saluted as they went by the door. 
This incomprehensible move of theirs disturbed me 
considerably, and one or two neighbours were in the 
same frame of mind. The good priest was one of 
them. We had somehow gained the impression that 
it must signify trouble of some sort and that the house 
was doomed. I asked the priest's advice as to what 
he thought it best to do, since I had others than my- 
self to consider. He thought I ought at once to go 
over to the mayor's office and explain my predicament. 
There, however, I was told that it was an excellent 
sign, the meaning of which was that neither my house 
nor my people would be molested. At this I was able 
to breathe again. It cheered us all considerably. 

About midday I received a message requesting me 
to go to one or two places. After I had started to 
carry out my instructions I met several of these Ger- 
mans, who halted me. They questioned me carefully 

52 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 53 

and in excellent English, and I found them eager to 
know whether I thought that the British had begun 
to fight. They appeared to be quite firm in the belief, 
which had been most profound among all Germans, 
that my countrymen would never join France and 
fight against their country. They were destined to 
be surprised, to their sorrow and fury. Of course I 
pleaded utter ignorance of what was happening, and 
they believed me all the more readily since no one had 
been able to procure any papers and we had been for 
many anxious days without the slightest bit of news. 
These men looked surly and threatening as they spoke 
to me, and I must acknowledge that I was somewhat 
flustered, since I possessed no passport of any kind 
and I had not the slightest chance of being able to 
defend myself if they took it into their heads to attack 
me. I was compelled to tell them where I lived and 
at once took this occasion of telling them that the col- 
onel had been at my house. I related several inci- 
dents, which appeared to afford them some amuse- 
ment, and they told me they would soon come over to 
my place. Finally they allowed me to pass on and 
I hurried away, well pleased that I had been able to 
satisfy them, and reached my first place of call. 
From this point my way was along the side of the 
river, and I arrived in a village where I met more 
Germans. Some of them were paddling themselves 
about in small boats and rowing themselves across 



54 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

the River Oise. As soon as they caught sight of me 
they ordered me to pull up at once, whereupon I 
jumped off my bicycle. Their chief anxiety was to 
know whether it would be possible for them to get 
something to drink at the cafe. I replied that I could 
not be sure of it, since I was in no position to know, 
but that I would see what I could do for them. I 
went around to the back of the house, which was all 
locked up, and finally broke a pane of glass in the 
window and unfastened the latch. To my surprise I 
found a terrified old lady in the kitchen. She was 
stone-deaf and had heard nothing of what was going 
on. I did my best to explain to her what the sol- 
diers wanted, but she was in a dreadful state of mind 
and sought to put me off, shrieking that her husband 
would be back in a few minutes. I told her that the 
men must have some beer and that it would be best 
to let them have it instead of taking the risk of having 
them wreck the place. The poor old lady was so 
panic-stricken that she asked me if I could not serve 
the beer out to them, whereupon I at once assumed a 
new function. 

The soldiers were served with "canettes," holding 
about a pint apiece, which they guzzled down en- 
thusiastically. After they had drunk their fill they 
asked me where I was going and wanted to know why 
I was not in the army. I had to enter into lengthy 
explanations in regard to my errands and as to the 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 55 

reasons of my having escaped military duty. I was 
naturally obliged to invent some excuses and told 
them that I had been looking for something to eat. 
Also I informed them that I had been asked to report 
at the mayor's office whether there were any uncared- 
for animals that should be destroyed. On the 
strength of my tale I was finally allowed to depart 
and continued my tour of investigation, looking out 
for dogs and other abandoned creatures. On my way 
I called at Mr. B.'s house and here, to my surprise, I 
found Marian, the old caretaker of whom I have 
spoken. She was sitting on a chair outside the door, 
weeping bitterly. She was terribly unnerved and 
upset. She told me that she was too badly fright- 
ened to be able to remain any longer, even in the day- 
time, and as my son Freddie could not possibly stay 
there day and night, having any amount of other work 
to do, I persuaded her to feed the animals and then 
lock up the house and come with me. I promised 
that my son and I would return with her later, to at- 
tend to the horses for the night. Then she could come 
back and sleep with the others in the old cave. She 
was overjoyed at this arrangement. 

Two days later the old lady found a police dog, 
which was very sick, and which I doctored up to the 
best of my ability. On that evening she seemed to be 
afraid of leaving the house and begged me to let my 
son come and spend the night there. The idea was 



56 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

not one that pleased me, since I hated to have the boy 
all night out of my sight, owing to the unknown dan- 
gers that might be surrounding us. Still, in the end 
I agreed to her request. 

At about half past twelve that night Marian heard 
the dog barking and peered out of the window. She 
could see German soldiers perched on top of the wall 
and engaged in climbing up the post which led to the 
telephone wires, which they immediately destroyed. 
She awakened my son at once and the lad got dressed, 
after which the two of them let themselves out 
through the back door and went across the river, cir- 
cling around for about a mile and a half till they 
finally reached my home. But when they got there 
they had no means of letting themselves in, as they 
feared to make some disturbance that would arouse 
suspicion on the part of any stray German passing by. 
I was alone in the house, all the others being in the 
cave, and of course never heard them. They made 
their way around the old church to one of the back 
gates. Freddie climbed over this and went through 
one of the kennels, from which he reached the back 
door. I was taken by surprise when I saw him there. 
He was quite excited when he told me the predicament 
they were in, so that it was some time before I dis- 
covered that the lady was still standing out there in 
the dark, shivering with fright, for she had been quite 
unable to follow the boy over the gate. When we 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 57 

went out we found that she had fainted through sheer 
terror. Finally we managed to get her inside and 
Freddie ran in the house for some water, with which 
we revived her. In less than a half an hour she was 
all right again and we took her over to the cave, but 
not without the greatest difficulty. Once there, how- 
ever, she naturally obtained the best of care and I 
returned to the house, where I sat up for the rest of 
the night. 

Two days after this the Colonel came over to my 
house again and enquired for me. My wife told him 
that I was in a baker's shop opposite my house, that 
had been deserted. The keys had been left with me, 
as the owners had possessed a few chickens and rab- 
bits with a very old horse and had asked me to look 
after the derelicts. At this time I had become a sort 
of dry-nurse to more poor abandoned animals than I 
had ever realized a man could look after. Our sup- 
ply of biscuits for my dogs had run exceedingly low 
and I was terribly afraid that I would not be able to 
obtain sufficient food for them. In this emergency I 
bethought myself of this old bakery, wondering if I 
could not make shift to concoct some sort of dog-food 
there. I found that there was on hand a large amount 
of material, which we called mullage. It was a sort 
of coarse meal, containing much of the refuse of the 
flour-mills, which was usually employed for the pur- 
pose of fattening pigs. Necessity, they say, is the 



58 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

mother of invention, and I went to work to find out 
whether I could not put it to some other use. In a 
few days more my dogs would be starving, and I de- 
cided to try and make biscuits for them out of this 
stuff. The ovens were in excellent order and we 
found that the heat could readily be turned on. Any 
amount of wood was on hand and, with my boy's help, 
I began to try my apprentice hand at baking. We 
had been hard at it for some time and had turned out 
about sixty biscuits that might have weighed about 
four to the pound. About eighty or a hundred more 
were in the ovens, not entirely baked, when the bell 
rang. I naturally thought that it was my wife or 
some of the villagers looking for me and answered 
promptly, being greatly surprised when I found the 
Colonel standing there and waiting. Four of his men 
were with him. I had already discovered that he 
preferred to be well guarded. Several soldiers al- 
ways moved about with him, and hundreds more were 
always within summons of the whistle he carried. 

At once he began to bombard me with questions. 
What was I doing in there? What business had I to 
rummage about that place? I hastily informed him 
that I had been compelled to adopt a new profession 
and invited him to enter and see what I was doing. 
He complied, being closely followed by the others, 
and manifested his astonishment when he saw the 
work we were engaged in. The man appeared to 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 59 

think there was a humorous side to the situation; at 
any rate he indulged in a little fun-making which 
appeared to afford him considerable amusement. He 
joked over my change in occupation and about the 
many strings I appeared to have to my bow. 

"You will have lots to talk about after this war is 
ended," he told me. "I hope that we will meet again 
under other circumstances, if only to discuss the art 
of baking biscuits. You seem to be getting along 
pretty well." 

It must certainly have seemed like a most amusing 
joke to him, for he kept on repeating: "Think of 
Fred Mitchell, the celebrated jockey, with a big white 
apron around him and baking biscuits." 

From this he went off into reminiscences, telling 
me of the wonderful times he had been afforded as a 
result of information I had given him in regard to the 
races. He went on: 

"You can't imagine how much money you have per- 
mitted me to win during the days when I was your 
stableman. Indeed, you put me on to some mighty 
good winners. Do you remember the time you told 
me that Gilder Ray was sure to win at St. Cloud? 
There was not another man in the stables or elsewhere 
who had the slightest idea that he had a chance, not 
even poor old Trainer Brown. I wonder where he 
is now, and what has become of him? Didn't he go 
over to Germany to train? It seems to me that he 



60 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

did. Ah, well, I hope we shall have some more good 
fellows of his kind." 

He stopped for a moment, looking at me and smil- 
ing a little. 

"I wonder if you will believe me when I tell you 
that I won over forty thousand francs that day. In 
all I took in over fifty thousand marks — thirty thou- 
sand of it in German money, for I used to place all 
my bets there. Isn't it amusing to think that all these 
people here looked upon me as a mere stable-boy?" 

He had a good laugh over this, and was perhaps 
quite entitled to it, for he certainly had fooled us 
egregiously. 

"I wonder what old Alf would think?" he went on, 
referring to the head stable-lad. "I wish he were 
here now so that I could tell the 'bee' what he used to 
say to me. It used always to be the 'Bee' with him, 
his invariable name for every one. 'Now you "bees" 
get on with this, hurry up with that! I've told you 
so a hundred times!' We used to dodge around the 
comers trying to beat the old chap. I shall never 
forget one morning when I wanted to get away to the 
telegraph office. He met me going back to the horse 
I'd finished grooming and asked me what the deuce 
I was doing? He little thought I was trying to get 
out through the back way and out through the wood. 
But he swallowed some excuse I gave him and I man- 
aged to deliver my telegrams and get back again 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 61 

without being caught. I have no doubt that if he had 
I would have been kicked .out of the yards and dis- 
charged at once." 

He laughed again and rose. 

"Well, we must have some more conversation about 
those good old days, when I have a little more time." 

All this, it may readily be believed, was not quite 
as amusing to me as it had proved to him, although it 
was interesting to talk over old times again. But, at 
any rate, our talk had somewhat increased my confi- 
dence. I could see that all this might serve to bring 
the fellow somewhat closer to me and for this reason 
I encouraged him to talk. At any moment I might 
have dire need of him, in case of sudden trouble. 
This may not seem absolutely fair on my part, but the 
matter, after all, might be one of life and death for 
me and mine, and for my friends in the village. I 
remembered that we were at war, in which everything 
is supposed to be fair. 

His retinue had made themselves perfectly at home, 
sitting down on the meal-bags or any other conven- 
iences they could find. They laughed to hear about 
what their colonel had been and remarked how strange 
it was that our paths had crossed again. 

The colonel told me that he could not make out why 
I always refused to bet, for he knew that this was my 
invariable rule. He simply couldn't understand it. 
Time and again he asserted that I would have made a 



62 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

large fortune in the betting ring. To this I could 
only reply that wagering was something that had never 
appealed to me in the slightest degree, and that I pre- 
ferred to spend all my spare time with my dogs. 
They were my hobby, second only in importance to 
my dear ones at home. 

Suddenly he asked me whether the biscuits I was 
baking were fit to eat, to which I answered that I be- 
lieved they were. Promptly my son Freddie picked 
one of them up and broke it, beginning to eat it. The 
Colonel immediately followed suit and appeared to 
rather like the taste of it. With this he ordered his 
men to sample them. They obeyed at once and, 
rather to my surprise, were not satisfied until they had 
consumed several apiece. It seemed queer to me that 
they suddenly withdrew into a comer of the place, 
where they began an earnest conversation in their own 
language with their colonel. The latter then came 
back to me and asked me if I could make ready for 
them about two hundred and fifty of these biscuits, 
by five o'clock in the evening. 

Under other circumstances I might have been 
rather flattered by this tribute to the perfection of my 
latest accomplishment, like the housewife who is 
pleased to see her guests delighted with the results of 
her culinary efforts. But at this time I must say that 
my heart sank within me. I could see all manner of 
gruesome pictures of myself, permanently occupying 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 63 

the baker's boots, with never a moment for rest or for 
the many other things I had to attend to. Moreover, 
I felt nearly overcome to think that my poor dogs, 
after all, might finally starve as the result of the greed 
displayed by these Germans. I dared not refuse, of 
course, for I was utterly at the mercy of these people. 

When I asked the Colonel whether he could not 
spare me a couple of men from his command, to help 
me out, he answered that he was sorry that it was 
absolutely impossible. He added, in a low voice, 
and out of hearing of the others, that it might not be 
safe. It is fair, I suppose, to think he knew pretty 
well what sort of people he was commanding, since he 
plainly showed that they were not to be trusted. 

My son and I worked fearfully hard to get the re- 
quired biscuits ready at the appointed time, with a 
few more for our dogs. Needless to say, we had not 
nearly enough to supply them all, in spite of our 
efforts. At five o'clock six lancers galloped up to 
the door. One of them dismounted and, summoning 
me, demanded the biscuits at once, gruffly, and or- 
dered me to have two hundred and fifty or three 
hundred more ready at nine the next morning. 

I sought to tell him that I could not be sure of being 
able to supply such a number, but he interrupted me, 
harshly crying that I must have them ready. The 
men slung the sacks in front of their saddles and 
dashed away again. 



64 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

After they had disappeared I asked my wife to go 
over to the mayor's office and explain about those bis- 
cuits, asking what I had better do. The secretary 
stared at her: 

"Tell him to go on baking, by all means; we must 
keep on good terms with the fellows. If Mitchell 
only knew how much he is doing for us he would 
work night and day! He may be the means of saving 
us all! For the love of God tell him to keep on 
baking those biscuits. Let your son work while he 
gets a little sleep, but keep at it, resting and working 
in turns!" 

Since we were quite helpless in the matter we could 
but abide by the secretary's instructions, and, since I 
realized how important a matter it was, we kept up the 
work willingly enough. It did one's heart good to 
see the joy of the villagers when I told them of our 
experience that evening. There were less than a 
score of them left, and not an able-bodied man among 
them, so that it was impossible for me to get any help 
from them. Two or three of the old men — one of 
them at least seventy — simply danced for joy at the 
thought that I might possibly be instrumental in sav- 
ing the village. The old fellow had some property 
and valuables he was by no means anxious to lose. 
All this made me all the more eager to go on with 
my baking and whatever else I could do that might 
keep us on good terms with the invaders. The work 



LEARNING A NEW TRADE 65 

was hard, indeed after a time it became a sort of 
nightmare, for we had to supply the increasing de- 
mands of the Boches and to feed a lot of dogs which 
the recent unwelcome accessions had raised to the 
number of a hundred and seven. We worked as 
strenuously as we could to accomplish all this, and it 
may be imagined that it was no small task. Soon 
after this came to me dreadful news. The Mairie 
regretfully informed me that it was absolutely neces- 
sary that I should do away with a large number of 
these animals. It was most important that we should 
keep on furnishing these biscuits, all the more so be- 
cause we were not using the real flour, since the Ger- 
mans seemed to be perfectly satisfied with our dog- 
food. 

Many a time I wondered why the Colonel, or at any 
rate some of the officers under him, had not asked for 
biscuits made of the best flour, since there was a large 
quantity of it in the bakery. I can only suppose that 
they overlooked it entirely, and we were more than 
pleased at their silence, or their ignorance. 

Thus began a period of dull, stupid, wearisome 
toil that was never ended, and which I must pass over 
on my way to other happenings. 



CHAPTER V 

1 BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 

After two more days, during which my boy and I 
worked unceasingly, the Colonel came to me and 
asked if we could not open the tobacco shop near by. 
In regard to this I may say that he had his command 
under better discipline, and allowed fewer outrages, 
than any other German officer I have heard of. While 
invading districts in which resistance had been of- 
fered the Huns had put everything and nearly every 
one to fire and sword. Through our place they had 
come without meeting the slightest obstacles. On the 
whole line they were conquerors. A few of the more 
humane officers could afford to treat the populations 
half decently, especially when, like our own, they 
consisted of perhaps a score of feeble and crippled 
people. It was only when they became conscious 
that they were repulsed that all of their savagery was 
aroused in our part of France. Their first defeat 
called for merciless and sanguinary reprisals, car- 
ried out as usual upon the defenceless. 

The colonel told me that if I could open the shop 

66 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 67 

it would save him the trouble of having it broken into, 
and I told him I would try to get into it from the rear. 

"Oh, yes," said he, "I remember the way. I have 
many a time gone out at the back door as the gen- 
darmes were coming in at the front. We used to 
play billiards there, and a good many exciting games 
of cards. You see that I know the ropes pretty well, 
but in my position I don't think I care to go around 
there. Get to work and see what you can do in the 
way of getting at this tobacco. I'll wait for you in 
front. My men are getting impatient and are deter- 
mined to have it, and I can't be watching them every 
minute. It will be best for you to get at it for them." 

The man knew very well that if his soldiers broke 
in the place would be looted in a few minutes and that 
a great deal of the stuff would be wasted. It was 
good policy on his part to prefer an orderly distribu- 
tion. I complied at once with his instructions and 
got over the back door. The proprietor's wife was 
upstairs, ah elderly woman living like the others in 
constant terror. I persuaded her to come down and 
open the front door, telling her that it would be 
smashed in if she hesitated long. Her fright was 
such that she begged me to stand by her while she 
served out the tobacco and I assured her that I would. 

We got the front door open and four men came in, 
with the Colonel. They asked for cigars, tobacco, 
snuff and bottled beer, all of which they paid for. 



68 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

I was told to instruct this woman that she must under 
no consideration close the place, and that if she 
obeyed everything would be paid for. 

The poor woman was nearly distracted; she spent 
her spare moments in trembling and bewailing her 
fate, having been terribly impressed by all the tales 
the refugees had told us. At last she realized, how- 
ever, that there was no immediate danger and that her 
stock would be paid for. I finally left her much 
comforted. In spite of her fears she had proved her- 
self an observant woman. Glancing at the Colonel, 
she whispered that she had certainly seen the man 
before, adding that this could scarcely be possible 
and that she must be imagining it. I volunteered no 
information, however, fearing that the Colonel might 
not like it. Experience was teaching me constantly 
that it was best to hold my tongue and be reticent in 
regard to everything. 

On the following morning thirty to forty men 
crowded in for cigars, cigarettes and tobacco. I hur- 
ried there from the bakery, where I was working in 
scanty garb, owing to the heat of the ovens. To make 
myself presentable I slipped on an old overcoat and 
went behind the counter, forthwith graduating as a 
tobacco salesman. New trades were being forced 
upon me daily, it seemed to me, and it was no joke. 
I often wonder now how I managed to keep so many 
irons in the fire and attend to them all. I had to 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 69 

wander about the country in the capacity of dog- 
poisoner and to rush back and attend to the duties of 
a bartender. At other times I was instructed to carry 
various messages around, or to ride off on my bicycle 
on tours of investigation. And ever the bakery 
awaited me, demanding every other minute of my 
time. My lot was not an easy one. 

On the third day more Germans came into the to- 
bacco shop for supplies, for which they paid a hun- 
dred and twenty-five marks that morning. A ser- 
geant who was with them called me aside and told 
me he wanted to have a word with me. He drew me 
into a comer of the room and asked: 

"Are you not Fred Mitchell, the jockey, and haven't 
you been riding in Belgium and at Baden-Baden?" 

I answered that I was the man, and he surprised 
me by the extent of his information about me: 

"You're one of the luckiest fellows in this country," 
he told me. "Your coming across the Colonel has 
made a great difference, I can tell you, and given you 
a chance to keep a whole skin. He has told us that 
you were his friend and that you always helped any 
one you could oblige. A lot of us know what racing 
is and I hope you'll keep on the right side of our men. 
They know how well the Colonel is disposed towards 
you and he has directed them to always ask you for 
anything they want, knowing that you will get it for 
them if possible." 



70 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

This added to my sense of security, though it by no 
means lessened my heavy responsibilities. On the 
following day new troops came in, and five hundred 
bicycles and horses were in our midst. These men 
who were passing through were engaged in scout duty. 
Before leaving they crowded into the tobacco shop 
and cleared the place of everything there was in 
the way of drinks, cigars, tobacco and cigarettes. 
Neither did they fail to invade my bakery, which they 
swept clean of every biscuit I had. My poor dogs, 
therefore, had to be put on half rations that evening, 
and it was a small allowance indeed. It meant that 
I should, after a strenuous day, have to toil all night 
at my baking. I managed to turn out a new supply, 
but towards the last of my work I was so utterly ex- 
hausted that I practically fell asleep while standing 
on my feet. Finally I was forced to lie down on the 
bare boards for an hour or so. When I awoke I was 
dismayed to find that two hours had gone by. My 
poor boy was also asleep and I had not the courage 
to disturb him, so I set to work again to turn out 
more biscuits. 

Shortly after this more German soldiers came 
through our place and invaded the tobacco shop, 
loudly demanding a supply of smoking materials. 
The poor woman despairingly assured them that the 
place had been swept clean, but one of the fellows 
gruffly commanded her to get more, no matter where, 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 71 

accompanying his order with all manner of threats. 
They seemed to think we could produce such things 
at will, much as conjurors take things out of a previ- 
ously empty top-hat. The sobbing woman implored 
me to see what I could do and I jumped on my bicycle, 
taking an empty sack with me, and started on the 
road to Chomour. Reaching this village, I discov- 
ered an old man who used to sell tobacco before the 
war and explained our predicament to him. I told 
him that the Germans would very soon find out his 
place and, if he had any tobacco, would be sure to 
loot it all. I assured him that it would be best for 
him to let me have the stuff, as I would guarantee 
payment for it. He promptly realized that if they 
should search his place and discover his tobacco they 
would confiscate it at once, and probably commit far 
worse outrages. I packed two sacks full of his goods, 
clearing him out of everything he had, and rode away 
with my clumsy load. When I reached Gouvieux 
again and delivered it to the distracted woman, her 
emotion was so great that she could hardly utter a 
word. Her silence, however, was more expressive 
than all the thanks she could have spoken and her 
gratitude was unbounded. 

Indeed, the only comfort I had in those strenuous 
days was in the consciousness that I could help a 
good many poor people and gain their respect and 
esteem. They were drawn very closely to me by all 



72 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

that I contrived to do for them and the feeling was a 
gratifying one indeed. Even now I am compelled to 
acknowledge that these recollections afford me pleas- 
ant moments. 

The Boches returned promptly on the following 
day and truculently inquired whether their orders had 
been carried out. I went out with an officer who had 
come for me and told him that I had visited every 
likely place and had brought everything I could carry 
away. Also I promised that if I could discover any 
further source of supply I would take advantage 
of it immediately. The only thanks he thought fit to 
reward me with was a gruff: "Very well! See that 
you do!" 

He was a man of a coarser type than those who had 
been around us previously. As new troops kept on 
passing through I had to deal with different men every 
day, most of whom deemed boorishness and uncouth 
behaviour as desirable attainments. Over some of 
them a thin veneer of civilization has been spread, 
artificially as it would seem, but the breed appears 
to be a special one in which coarseness is ingrained. 

I asked this man if he would kindly look at the 
sign over my door, and his demeanour changed at 
once. He immediately saluted me and spoke out: 

"Oh! Very well! I won't forget you now." 

He ordered his men to march back at once and they 
saluted when they passed the door. After this they 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 73 

went around the church and, when they reached a 
point about 800 yards away on the other side of my 
house, turned back and went on their way. For the 
life of me I could not at first fathom the object of this 
extraordinary move. To pass away around the back 
of the house seemed absolutely ridiculous and unnec- 
essary. It was only afterwards that I supposed they 
did it for the purpose of recognizing the place from 
every angle, so that they might always easily find it 
and perhaps avoid any molestation. At any rate 
they made their turn and, reaching the tobacco-shop, 
the sergeant pulled up his men, who came to a halt. 
The poor woman signalled to me and I immediately 
walked across to her place. In a few moments all 
the supplies I had procured disappeared, and she 
requested me to ask the officer whether she was to 
continue to keep the place open, since nothing was 
left to dispose of. When I put this question to the 
officer his reply came at once: 

"Yes, tell her she must continue to keep it open. 
If she doesn't other men may pass by and see that it 
is a tobacco shop. Should it be closed they would 
probably burst their way in and cause a lot of trouble. 
I will see to it that as many as possible are informed 
that there is no tobacco left in this village nor in the 
two or three adjoining ones. That's the best I can 
do for you." 

With this assurance he left me. 



74 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

At eight o'clock in the morning I used to go over to 
a small farm house situated about a thousand yards 
away from my house. There I was generally able to 
obtain some milk for my dogs. The place was man- 
aged by an old man and his wife, who had a crippled 
son. It was my custom to make this little run on my 
wheel, with a large milk-can tied to each handlebar. 
I would ride over there and trundle the wheel back, 
since this was easier than carrying the cans. On this 
particular day I was passing what we call the small 
square in which a number of roads intersect, radiating 
off to Pressy, Lamorlaye, Boran, Senlis, Chantilly 
and Creil. A small cafe stood on this square, and as 
I approached two officers hurried out of it and com- 
manded me to stop. I immediately jumped off my 
bicycle and they began to speak with me, telling me 
that they wanted me to show them the way to Lamor- 
laye. 

"Certainly," I answered; "all you have to do is to 
keep straight along this road. You can't possibly 
stray from it unless you jump over the fences or 
hedges." 

"That's not what we want," one of them answered. 
"You are to lead the way there on your bicycle. 
Keep in front of us all the time." 

"What shall I do about my milk?" I asked. 

"We will send a man over to get it and take it to 
your house," he answered. 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 75 

I saw that I had no choice in the matter and ex- 
pressed my readiness to obey their orders. 

"We have an Englishman who will attend to the 
milk," he told me. 

The man he referred to came out of the cafe, and 
to my surprise, I recognized him as an individual 
who used to work on a small stud farm in the neigh- 
bourhood and whom I knew very well. He took the 
cans and I told him all about the milk, pointing to my 
house, which he knew as well as L 

I resumed my talk with the officers and was giving 
them elaborate directions about the road they were 
about to follow me on, when my acquaintance the 
Colonel approached our little group, in quite a 
friendly way, and asked me what we were talking 
about. He wanted to know whether there was any 
trouble. 

"No trouble at all Colonel," I replied. "I've only 
been telling these gentlemen about the road to Lamor- 
laye. They have told me to lead them there on my 
bicycle. I told them they couldn't miss their way, 
since, as you know very well, the road is a perfectly 
straight one." 

"Yes, I know it perfectly well," he answered. 
"But I want you to go on, ahead of these men. I 
have my own reasons for this. Get on your bicycle 
and keep about a hundred and fifty yards in front of 
them." 



76 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

In an undertone he went on: 

"You stick to a three minute gait and don't you 
dare look back." 

By this he meant that I should go at a fairly mod- 
erate gait, as the term is one used in the paddocks to 
indicate a fair rate such as is adopted in exercising 
racing horses. 

At first the Colonel's orders puzzled me a little, but 
I soon understood that it was a precaution they were 
taking against suddenly meeting French troops. 

"You are to keep straight on as if you were an 
apprentice on his first ride," he went on. "You know 
the lads were told to go straight ahead, looking neither 
to the right or left till they passed the winning post." 

I understood that I must not turn till I had reached 
Lamorlaye and the racing establishment of Mr. 
Drury, the American owner of race-horses, and I 
began to lead the way until we reached the stables, 
where I jumped off. When the Colonel came along 
I told them that these were the Drury stables, a fact 
he was perfectly aware of. 

"Yes, that's all right," he answered. "Do you 
think there are any horses here that we could use for 
the army?" 

"I hardly think so," I replied. "The only horses 
left are two year olds and yearlings that would be of 
no use to your men, at any rate this year. It might 
be best for you to go through the stables and see for 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 77 

yourself, because there might be one or two animals I 
am not familiar with. I don't want you to blame me 
if you find that my information is not quite correct." 

"Very well," he agreed. "You will go with me 
into some of the stables and we will see what we can 
find." 

He called six of his men to accompany us and we 
went around to several of the stables. I waited out- 
side while they were searching for horses, for there 
was not the slightest need of my directing them. 
They knew the various places just as well as I, if not 
better. 

Shortly afterwards he took me to a breeding estab- 
lishment. 

"We might find one or two that they have turned 
out into the paddocks to convey the impression that 
they are for breeding purposes," he told me. 

In this place there was a mare of my own and an- 
other belonging to my friend Mr. B., and this fact 
made me feel rather uncomfortable. I supposed that 
the men would immediately pick out these two ani- 
mals. But they drove them off into a comer and the 
Colonel beckoned me to come over to him. 

"Look here, Mitchell," he asked; "isn't that one of 
yours?" 

I admitted that it was my property and he asked 
me if there was anything the matter with the animal. 
I answered that there was not, but that I thought she 



78 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

could hardly be of any use for the army because she 
was very easily excited. I told him that his own 
experience with her would confirm my statement. 

"Well, what about the other one?" he asked. 

"Don't you think her too big and clumsy?" I re- 
plied. "I should hardly think she would be suit- 
able." 

"I'm not so sure about that," answered the Colonel. 

In an effort to gain a point I told him to use his 
own judgment, adding that I did not wish to influence 
his actions. 

He made no reply, examining the horses very care- 
fully and appearing to do a lot of thinking. Finally 
he turned to me: 

"Never mind, Monsieur Mitchell, I think we'll 
leave them both here and take the matter up again 
later on." 

From that place we went over to another stable and, 
on our way, he spoke again: 

"I'm not going to take your mare, Mitchell, and I'll 
give orders that she is not to be taken by any one else." 

I thanked him for his consideration and was 
greatly pleased, naturally enough. I could ill afford 
to lose the mare and was glad indeed that it was 
spared. We continued our search from stable to sta- 
ble, but everywhere he was disappointed, finding noth- 
ing that could be of any use to him. Finally he 
turned to me and told me I might go back to Gouvieux. 



I BECOME A JACK OF ALL TRADES 79 

After I had thanked him again and gone on a few 
paces towards my bicycle the idea struck me that it 
was more than likely that I would meet other soldiers 
on my way back and that they might make it hard for 
me to reach my home. Should I be questioned they 
might refuse to believe that I had been acting as a 
guide to the Colonel, and there was no proof that I 
could offer. In this dilemma I returned to him for 
advice. As soon as I explained the situation to him 
he searched his pocket and pulled out a few cards — 
of about the size of a postal — and wrote something on 
both sides, to the effect that I was not to be stopped 
and that I should be permitted to pass through the 
lines. He also signed both sides of the card. 

I was delighted at this, feeling that the document 
might be an invaluable one to me and realizing that 
it might solve many a difficulty later on. There was 
a drawback, however, in the fact that if I should 
come across any French soldiers in the woods or on 
the neighbouring roads, things might go hard with me. 
I considered the fact that they might arrest me as a 
spy and accuse me of having assisted the Germans in 
leading them to Lamorlaye. The possession of this 
card would be bound to confirm them in this belief. 

I was relieved at the partial protection it afforded 
me, however, and little realized at the time how in- 
valuable it was to prove. But for this card I could 
never have undertaken the journeys I shall speak of 



80 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

further on, and it certainly saved my life on several 
occasions when I thought that my last moment had 
come. Of all the mementoes I have gathered during 
the course of those strenuous months, it is the one I 
value most, and my wife shares in this estimation. 
She has placed it in safekeeping to be framed after 
the war. 



CHAPTER VI 

I PREPARE FOR A JOURNEY 

I SHALL here take the liberty of telling my readers 
that I have ridden in the fastest mile in England, at 
the races at Lingfield. I have also been in racing 
automobiles and have had a number of flights in aero- 
planes, so that I am a fair judge of speed. The dis- 
tance between Lamorlaye and Gouvieux is something 
over two miles, on a very good road. I honestly 
think this distance was never covered by cyclist or 
auto or steed, in fact by anything but possibly a bird, 
at the rate my fears urged me to keep up. I was 
neither anxious to meet Germans or French on my 
return journey. 

I found a number of my friends at my door. 
Among them was the priest, the secretary from the 
mayor's office, and several others. They had all 
been enquiring what had become of me and were all 
most anxious about me. Some of them despaired of 
seeing me again. They knew I had been taken away 
by the soldiers and feared that the worst had hap- 
pened to me. When they caught sight of me as I 

81 



82 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

came around the comer on my wheel they leaped for 
very joy. I dismounted and sank on a chair. Fully 
ten minutes elapsed before I could recover my breath 
and speak distinctly. At last I was able to explain 
what had happened and related my experience since I 
had left, some four hours previously. I was very 
careful to say nothing about the card I had obtained, 
however, and, at this time, did not mention it even to 
my wife. I christened it my "German Passport." 

After I was rested I went in the house and told my 
son that I thought I would go for a little walk. The 
dogs had been so greatly deprived of any exercise 
that some of them were acting peculiarly. They were 
all exceedingly restless. I decided to take about a 
dozen of them out with me for a run. Among them 
were three very large Irish wolfhounds and a couple 
of big deerhounds. The remainder were chiefly Aire- 
dales. My son Freddie took the smaller dogs and I 
looked after the large ones. All of them were de- 
lighted at the prospect of a little exercise. We would 
gladly have turned them loose, but were afraid they 
might be shot if they came unaware across some 
German soldiers. 

We went around by the road to Lies, and came to 
cross-roads where two or three Germans were on 
guard. They spoke to us pleasantly enough and 
seemed to be greatly interested in the dogs, asking 
me all sorts of questions in regard to their various 



I PREPARE FOR A JOURNEY 83 

breeds and where they came from. I told them all 
they wished to know. One of these men knew where 
my house was situated and recognized me at once, 
saluting. I was glad of this, as it put me more at 
ease. We continued to talk for some time about the 
dogs, as the soldiers plied me with more questions. 
I was glad enough to answer, of course, since one had 
to be civil to these fellows. One of them appeared 
to be particularly interested. He wore the stripes of 
a corporal. Very soon he expressed a desire for one 
of the Airedales, or for a puppy, which he wanted to 
send back to his country. I had to tell him that if 
he wanted one he could have it, and that there were 
some puppies in my paddocks that he could choose 
from. 

I had learned to miss no opportunity of ingratiating 
myself with these men. It is hardly worth while to 
say that my motive was always an ulterior one — the 
possibility of being able to be of assistance in keep- 
ing them from molesting us or the other villagers. 
Moreover I knew perfectly well that if this corporal 
really wanted one of my dogs he would take it with 
or without permission. Hence it was better to offer 
it as cheerfully as I could. 

One of these fellows asked me if any of these dogs 
would hunt and pick up rabbits or pheasants for 
t ^.m. I had to tell them that they had not been 
t dined for such work, since it was against the laws in 



84 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

this district. I explained that they were only show- 
dogs, and that many of them had won prizes. I also 
told them that they were quite clever enough to be 
trained for sporting purposes. Since I took no inter- 
est in that branch of the business, I added, the animals 
knew nothing about it, but, being young, would learn 
very rapidly. 

The corporal said that he would be glad to have 
me show him over the kennels and I told him I would 
take pleasure in so doing. We parted in very 
friendly fashion and I started for the road leading to 
Pressy. After we had proceeded for about a mile 
and a half we came to other crossroads, one of which 
led to Pressy. We had only gone a short distance 
when we came across another party of Germans, who 
stopped us and asked us in what direction we were 
going. I told them where we were bound, explaining 
where we had come from. These fellows also ad- 
mired the dogs and one man dismounted from his 
horse to have a better look at them. He asked me 
whether they would be apt to bite him. I assured 
him he was quite safe as they would never touch him 
under the present conditions, but that in their own 
home they would be inclined to be rather vicious, as 
they were excellent watchdogs. The larger of these 
animals were tremendous things, more like donkeys 
than dogs, in size. One of the soldiers declared that 
he would not like to enter my place and meet such 



I PREPARE FOR A JOURNEY 85 

brutes. He laughed at this and said to his compan- 
ions that it would be well to locate our place in order 
to avoid it. 

We were allowed to start home again. As soon as 
we reached Gouvieux I heard that the Colonel had 
been inquiring for me at my house. My wife had 
informed him that I had started off for a walk with 
my son and some of the dogs. He asked her in what 
direction I had gone and she told him that she could 
not tell him exactly, though she thought it likely that I 
had gone towards Lies and Pressy. 

My son and I went around to one side of the church 
and there we met him. He got off his horse and, 
turning it over to a soldier, came over to where I 
stood opposite the church door, greeting me with a 
pleasant "Good morning." I saluted and said, 
"Good morning. Colonel." 

"You have a fine lot of dogs there, Mitchell," he 
told me. "I have seen them before and I wonder 
that they allow you to keep them now." 

"Well," I answered, "there is no one to prevent 
me from so doing at present, except yourself." 

"You know I wouldn't order you to destroy them," 
he told me. "I'm quite aware of how fond you are 
of them." 

I thanked him and, during the course of conversa- 
tion, he told me that they would want more biscuits 
very soon. At this news my heart sank into my boots. 



86 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

The thought that I must return to that awful task and 
help feed an army of men was anything but a pleas- 
ant one. But of course we always tried to please 
these people and to carry out all their orders, since it 
might save trouble in the end. After this he in- 
formed me that he wanted to see me on the following 
morning in regard to explaining to the authorities 
some facts about an army that would soon be coming 
this way. Then he mounted his horse and rode away. 

He did not come before ten o'clock on the following 
morning. Fifty thousand soldiers, he informed me, 
were expected to reach Chantilly very soon. The 
Crown Prince was to be with this army. I was to 
try to inform all the inhabitants that they must on no 
account close their doors. Everything must be left 
open so that the men might walk in freely. Any hin- 
drance offered to this would be severely punished. 
He assured me that this was the only safe course to 
follow, for as soon as the men discovered that every- 
thing was open and that they could have a free hand 
and go wherever they wanted to, they would be apt to 
disturb no one. The Crown Prince, he informed me 
also, expected to occupy the chateau with his staff. 

A day or two later I went over to the mayor's office, 
where I found the officials greatly distressed and badly 
worried. There was no means of their communicat- 
ing with Paris, and these men were in despair. The 
fifty thousand Germans, they knew, were getting very 



I PREPARE FOR A JOURNEY 87 

close to Chantilly. They gave me to understand that 
the mayor at Chantilly had been visited by the Crown 
Prince and had been compelled to show him the Grand 
Chateau of the Duke of Chartres. It had been his 
unpleasant duty to accompany the Prince to the cha- 
teau on a tour of inspection, and the latter had signi- 
fied his intention of making his headquarters there. 

There was not a soul to take a message to Paris 
and they did not know what to do. They felt that 
the fate of the city might depend on this move. In a 
moment I had sized up the situation. It was now a 
matter of life and death and some one must go to 
Paris with the news. I volunteered to make the trip 
on my bicycle if they would give me a safe convoy 
through the French lines. The official stared at me. 

"There will be no trouble about the French," he 
told me. "It is the Germans who will prevent you 
from passing." 

I merely answered that they would have to leave 
that to me. 

I don't think I can ever forget the frenzied condi- 
tion of the poor man's mind. He broke down and 
began to cry like a child. 

"Mitchell," he sobbed, "if you only could know 
what it would mean to get a message over to Paris! 
It might be the means of saving thousands upon thou- 
sands of soldiers, not to speak of civilians!" 

But he could not agree to let me go. He assured 



88 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

me that the danger was too great and that my life 
would be uselessly sacrificed. The danger was too 
great. It was insurmountable. But I was deter- 
mined and, as I kept on insisting, he finally said that 
if I went I must do so on my own responsibility and 
at my own risk. 

By this time I was firmly resolved to go. It was 
the one and only thing to be done at this moment. 
When I thought of all that was at stake I could not 
hesitate. Finally I told him that I would start and 
take my boy Freddie with me. 

Risking my boy's life was a bitter chance to take, 
but I do not speak French very fluently and hardly 
saw my way to carry out my plan without his aid. 
His mere presence might make us less amenable to 
suspicion, we thought. I knew that I might have 
nearly as much trouble in traversing the French lines 
as the German ones, and his fluent knowledge of the 
language must be of the greatest assistance. 

I returned home, slowly, thinking over this under- 
taking and knowing how my announcement would be 
received by my wife and daughter. They would 
allow me to go, I knew, and the mother would spare 
her son, but the heartache I must inflict on her made 
me very sad. I could picture her worry and fear 
during all the time that would elapse before my re- 
turn. But something had to be done, and no others 
could possibly undertake this journey. 



CHAPTER VII 

GETTING THROUGH 

In this anxious state of mind I reached my home, 
dreading the ordeal of explaining everything to my 
wife and daughter. They saw that something of im- 
portance was on my mind and questioned me. Some- 
what nervously, I must confess, I told them what I 
had decided to do. I had expected them to be dis- 
tressed and badly frightened at the prospect before 
me, but their emotion was hard to witness. I sought 
to reassure and comfort them by telling them not to 
worry, and that I was persuaded that I would get 
through all right. 

Taking my wife by the arm I led her into another 
room, where we could talk over the matter quietly. 
I showed her my German "passport" and told her that 
she must on no account mention it to any one. It was 
best, I explained to her, that no one should know by 
what means I might be permitted to get through the 
Hun lines. When I expressed my desire to take my 
son with me and asked whether she would spare him I 
saw that it was a blow that struck her hard. To my 
surprise, however, she consented, readily but sorrow- 

89 



90 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

fully, realizing that my French was insufficient to 
carry me through if long explanations had to be made. 
No one could ever tell that the boy was English 
whereas my accent distinguished me at once. How 
much my wife's consent cost her I may never be able 
to realize. Mothers readily and bravely give up their 
sons, in these trying days, but the danger is usually 
still far away and the chances of return probably 
greater than they were in our case. 

I called in my son and we had a little heart to heart 
talk over the matter. I found the plucky boy not only 
ready but eager to start. At once we made all prep- 
arations for leaving immediately and packed our kits 
with everything that might be needed in case of a 
breakdown. After this had been attended to I called 
at the mayor's office, where I was entrusted with a 
very small piece of tissue paper — a letter — ^which I 
was instructed to deliver as soon as possible to the 
Prefect of Police in Paris. The important question 
of how I should conceal this document flashed through 
my mind and I puzzled over it for a moment. Fi- 
nally I pulled off my right boot and slipped the thing 
under a steel arch support I was in the habit of wear- 
ing, after which I laced up the boot again. The man 
was rather amazed at seeing me do this, but no time 
was left for more words. He shook hands with me 
and wished me Godspeed, in a voice that was shaky 
with emotion: 



GETTING THROUGH 91 

"France," he faltered, "will be proud of you if you 
prove able to carry this through." 

What the real purport of that note was I may 
never know, since I never read the message I bore, but 
I am very certain that it was of the utmost importance. 
Indeed I am very confident that it made it possible for 
the high officials in Paris to gain headway in hasten- 
ing troops to the front. It is certain that they imme- 
diately hurried off every means of conveyance they 
could put their hands on towards the battle lines. A 
host of automobiles, auto-busses, taxis, trucks of all 
kinds, hustled off to the seat of trouble bearing un- 
ending crowds of soldiers and firemen or laden with 
all the equipment needed to help stop the Germans 
and push them back in their advance towards the great 
city the Huns already deemed within their grasp. 

The boy and I started at about noon, an hour I 
selected because I thought the roads might be fairly 
deserted then. The soldiers, I thought, might be scat- 
tered about the woods preparing food and taking a 
rest. The day was a beautiful one, and so scorching 
hot that we were glad that trees shaded the road on a 
good part of our way. We rode rather slowly, know- 
ing that the way was long before us and believing that 
any appearance of hurrying would more easily arouse 
suspicion. 

As far as Lamorlaye we met no one. The trip 
was beginning auspiciously. In this village, however, 



92 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

some of the inhabitants who knew us called out that 
the Germans were only a short way ahead. They ap- 
peared to be amazed at our going on, and cried out 
again that we were running into danger. 

But we kept on, of course, for about a mile and a 
half further, till we reached the well-known Oak Tree. 
This is a place of some historic interest. The great 
tree stands in the middle of a sort of square at the 
intersection of two roads. Upon its branches, in 
1870, some men the invaders captured had been hung. 
In its shade a large command, forming part of the 
German right wing, had rested and indulged in some- 
thing that had been pretty nearly a vast orgy, to cele- 
brate their impending entry into the capital of France. 

In this place my boy and I came uncomfortably 
near to sharing the fate of the prisoners of forty-four 
years before. The place forms a sort of circle. Sol- 
diers were scattered all around it, and many others 
occupied the woods surrounding us. Six of them or- 
dered us to halt, so that we had to slow down and 
dismount immediately. With the uncouth roughness 
peculiar to the breed they asked us where we were 
going and for what purpose we were traveling. 

I was fortunate indeed in inventing, on the spur of 
the moment, a plausible excuse. I explained that we 
were in the sorest straits for provisions, and that some 
of the troops in our village were very badly in need 
of tobacco, cigars and cigarettes, and that we were 



GETTING THROUGH 93 

trying to get to Paris to procure these things, as well 
as news of the war. At this they seemed to be rather 
interested, but gruffly ordered us to leave our bicycles 
on the ground and step into the woods. I had of 
course shown them the card the Colonel had given me, 
and they inspected it with the greatest care, finally 
handing it back to me. Their manner, however, was 
by no means reassuring, and I shall never forget the 
look upon my poor boy's face when we started for 
those woods. I am sure he believed that our last hour 
had come, and I will acknowledge that I believed the 
same thing. I did my very best, however, not to dis- 
play any nervousness or fear, and believe that my 
efforts were fairly successful. 

Harshly they ordered us both to take off all our 
clothing in order to search us. 

"If you have any papers," said one of them, "hand 
them over to us at once or it will go hard with you!" 

These fellows spoke very threateningly and I could 
see that my boy was in an agony of fear. I assured 
them that I had no papers whatever excepting some 
cards that they would find in my coat-pocket, and 
the Colonel's pass. They immediately searched the 
pockets and examined these cards also, very closely. 
One of them spied my jockey's license, and I am very 
certain that it was, at this time, the means of saving 
our lives. My photograph was attached to this docu- 
ment and they could easily see that it was entirely 



94 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

genuine. One or two of the men, in fact, seemed 
to have recognized me. They did not know at this 
time that England had declared war against them, and 
considered me as a neutral, I suppose. After they 
had searched our coats our waistcoats had to come off, 
and then our shirts, all of which were inspected, so 
that at last there remained but our boots to be taken 
off. We sat down to obey this order, with such feel- 
ings as may readily be imagined. A few minutes 
more, we thought, and the game would be up and our 
bodies probably dangling on the branches of the fa- 
mous oak. I commenced on my left boot, having 
some little trouble to unfasten the laces, since I was 
praying for time. Finally I pulled the boot off, and 
then the sock, through which they searched with their 
wonted care. 

Only the right one was left now, with its deadly 
document. I slowly began to unlace the boot and, 
turning to my son, I spoke to him as calmly as I 
could. 

"It's a terrible thing," I told him, "that these men 
absolutely refuse to take any notice of their own Col- 
onel's card and his signatures. As soon as I see 
him again and tell him about this I wonder what he 
will say when he hears that his pass was of no service 
in seeing us through." 

As soon as I said this one of the men spoke out: 

"Get up and put on your clothes again," he ordered. 



GETTING THROUGH 95 

"Shall I take ofF this boot?" I asked. 

"No, hurry up and get dressed." 

But I took my time about doing this, trying in the 
meanwhile to look as indifferent as possible. Fred- 
die, however, probably beat his best record at putting 
his clothes on. He had been deadly pale and, most 
of the time, I had looked away from him and turned 
my right foot out of his sight, that his anxious looks 
might not betray me. 

Then the man came to me, looking somewhat wor- 
ried, and told me that there was no need whatever of 
saying anything to the Colonel about this matter of 
their not heeding his pass. 

"You know that we have other officers that we must 
obey also," he said. "You can go now as soon as you 
are ready." 

As we were about to start he came up to me again. 

"If you are going to Paris when do you expect to 
get back here?" he asked. 

I told him that we would do our very best to return 
some time in the afternoon of the next day, if we were 
successful in getting through. They told me then that 
they would be on duty in this place in the afternoon, 
about the time I had mentioned, and asked me if I 
could not manage to procure some cigarettes for them. 
I assured them that I would do this most willingly, 
foreseeing the probable need of making more trips 
that way and anxious to be as friendly as possible 



96 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

with these men, I promised that I would surely bring 
them a supply if I possibly could. 

We started off again, mightily relieved, but were 
pulled up again after we had hardly gone another 
mile. Here I again displayed my passport from the 
Colonel and the soldiers on guard angrily asked why 
the men at the Oak Tree had not properly stamped it 
to show that I must be allowed to pass on. Of course 
there was no explanation that I could make, saving to 
assure them I was very sorry that this had been neg- 
lected. They discussed the matter among themselves 
for some time and finally one of them spoke to us: 

"All right! You can go on!" 

Before we mounted, however, they bombarded me 
with inquiries as to what I was going to do, and what 
was the business that caused me to go, with a host of 
other questions about myself. I suppose I acquitted 
myseK to their satisfaction for at last they allowed 
us to go on. 

We kept on our way, again breathing freely, until 
we had journeyed for about an hour. At times we 
dismounted and led our wheels, walking up the steeper 
hills to save ourselves a little. We passed through 
Luzarches and Montaterre. Here, to our intense sat- 
isfaction, we came upon a lot of French recruits. 
There were thousands and thousands training through- 
out all the outlying districts. As we rode on, wearily, 
owing to the great heat, we were surprised to come 







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GETTING THROUGH 97 

to fortifications that had been contrived on the road 
with the aid of trees that had been recently felled, 
among which were piled up tremendously heavy cars 
and trucks, all mixed up with barbed wire. 

Every other sort of obstruction imaginable was 
blocking the roads, and we had a hard time of it, hav- 
ing to pick up our bicycles in our arms and carry them 
across fields and hedges and fences for about two 
miles, circling around until we managed to get by 
these defences and to return to the road once more. 
Riding on a short distance we came to more obstacles 
that had to be negotiated in the same way. When we 
had surmounted the difficulty again we had to pass a 
sentry who was stationed on the main road. He hur- 
ried over to us and asked for our passes. We pulled 
out the passports that had been given us at the mayor's 
office in Gouvieux and showed them to him. This, 
however, failed to satisfy him and he plied us with all 
sorts of questions: 

"How do I know that you are the persons men- 
tioned in this pass?" he asked. 

We were compelled to argue over the matter with 
him for some time, till I suggested that the best thing 
to do would be for him to take us over to his com- 
manding officer, which he agreed to do. Another sol- 
dier led us into a village near by, where we found 
the mayor's office. In the first room we were met by a 
man in charge who immediately questioned us in re- 



98 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

gard to the business that brought us there. I showed 
him the pass, but he shook his head. 

"We can't possibly allow you to proceed on the 
strength of this," he declared. "And we know that 
there are many of the Germans on the road over which 
you say you came. It seems very peculiar that they 
should have allowed you to pass through them and 
cover all this distance to the French lines." 

I explained to him all the incidents that had led up 
to our effort to get to Paris. 

"I am intrusted with a very special mission," I told 
him. "I have a most important message that is to be 
delivered to the Prefect of Police in Paris and it is 
urgent that I should reach there at the earliest pos- 
sible moment. I know that if you ever realize the 
importance of my errand you will all your life regret 
having detained me in this way." 

He insisted on knowing exactly what it was that I 
must deliver so soon in Paris and I explained that it 
was impossible for me to tell him, since I did not 
know myself the purport of the document. 

"I shall soon find a way to make you tell me," he 
replied, angrily. 

I assured him that I would be only too pleased to 
obey all orders if he would only take me to his supe- 
rior officer, or whoever was in charge of the unit oc- 
cupying the village. Again I repeated that the matter 
was a most serious one and that it must be looked into 



GETTING THROUGH 99 

at once by one of his superiors. This aroused his 
indignation and I was also shaking with excitement. 
Finally, in the midst of our excited talk, I bethought 
myself of my jockey's license and showed it to him. 

It proved a happy thought indeed. Immediately 
his manner changed entirely. 

"Oh! I'm ever so sorry, Mitchell," he said. "Of 
course I know who you are. You want to see the 
Major in command, naturally. I shall be very glad 
to take you to him at once." 

He led the way into the Major's quarters and this 
officer asked me in very stem and gruff tones what 
my business was and what I was going to Paris for. 
I endeavoured to tell him that I had been sent by the 
Mairie of Gouvieux and the surrounding villages, 
upon a mission of the highest importance. When he 
asked me what it was I was again compelled to tell 
him I did not know. At this he again looked at me 
suspiciously: 

"And you expect me to believe such a thing?" he 
asked gruffly. 

I then saw that it was necessary for me to give him 
more exact details. I had been instructed at Gou- 
vieux to say nothing to any one about what I knew of 
the impending arrival of a German army. Hence, 
as patiently as I could, I repeated that I had a mes- 
sage to deliver and that I had not the slightest idea 
of what it contained. The Germans, I added, had 



100 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

been unable to find it when they had stripped me, 
and I intended to show it to no one until I delivered 
it to its proper destination. I begged him again 
not to detain my son and me any longer than he pos- 
sibly could, telling him that it was too bad that 
after risking our lives among the Germans and suc- 
cessfully passing through, we should be detained by 
the French we were trying to serve. We had ex- 
pected trouble from the Boches, I told him, but had 
certainly not anticipated being held up after we 
should have reached what we had thought would be 
a haven of safety. I told him that it was a disgrace 
that the French should give me more trouble than the 
Germans had. Finally I showed him my jockey's 
license, hoping that it might have some effect on him 
since it identified me as a law-abiding dweller in 
a French community. 

This delay was maddening, and I was beginning to 
shake all over with the rage I sought to control. 
When my life and my son's had been for a time hardly 
worth a minute's purchase I had managed to keep 
calm, since we were in the hands of the enemy, but 
now it seemed as if our best friends were betraying 
me. 



CHAPTER VIII 

PARIS AT LAST 

I PRESUME that my manner finally convinced the 
Major of my sincerity and of the urgency of my mis- 
sion. At any rate his ideas began to veer around, 
and finally he handed me a short note he had writ- 
ten and which I was to present if I should happen to 
be stopped again. He told me that it would permit 
me to proceed with no further delays. 

He appeared to have so well realized that he had 
been mistaken in suspecting my intentions that at 
last he apologized for my detention at his hands. He 
was exceedingly anxious to hear more about the treat- 
ment I had received from the Germans and how we 
had managed to get through their lines. My haste 
was so great that, pleased as I would have been to 
comply with his wishes, I was forced to tell him that 
I must be on my way at once. I told him that I was 
grateful to him for the pass he had been kind enough 
to give me, but that we were bent on saving time, and 
he allowed us to depart. 

Indeed I felt that the message I carried must be of 
the utmost importance and was persuaded that it 

101 



102 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

would probably be the means of saving not only 
lives but perhaps the city itself. The delays had 
driven me nearly frantic and, in spite of our weari- 
ness, when we were free again we rode as fast as 
ever we could. When we reached St. Denis, on the 
outskirts of the city, we placed our machines in a 
cafe, whose proprietor promised to look out for them 
till the next day. We could find swifter means of 
communication now, since we could take a tram that 
would allow us to get off close to the Rue des Batig- 
nolles, where we delivered our message. 

We entered the building and got into a sort of 
lobby, in which was a long wide counter, behind 
which were several gendarmes, busily writing out 
passports and other papers. Our appearance must 
have been somewhat remarkable since we were cov- 
ered with the sweat and the dust accumulated on our 
long trip. 

"What do you want?" asked one of them. 

"My father has a message for the Prefect of Po- 
lice," answered my son. 

"Wait a moment, I will get it for you," I told the 
man. 

When I started to take my boot off I saw that these 
men had some doubts in regard to my sanity. By 
this time they were neglecting their work and star- 
ing at us with intense curiosity. Finally I pulled 
out the document and handed it to one of them. 



PARIS AT LAST 103 

"Please see that the Prefect gets this immediately," 
I urged him. 

"Where do you people come from?" he questioned 
me. 

"From Gouvieux," I answered. 

At this they all crowded around me. 

"Do you mean from Gouvieux near Chantilly?" 
he asked, intensely surprised. 

"Certainly," I replied. 

"Impossible!" he shouted. " 'Tis in the hands 
of the Boches." 

So great was his amazement that he stood there, 
with the note in his hand, forgetting that he had 
been asked to deliver it at once. When he finally 
departed he backed out, staring at us till he disap- 
peared behind a door. 

The other men began to ply me with questions. 
They were quite incredulous yet. The dust on my 
face made me quite unrecognizable, I suppose, and 
our weariness was such that I was anxious to get away 
as soon as possible. Finally I showed him the pass- 
port I had received from the mayor's office at Gou- 
vieux and my son pulled his also. They examined 
them, greatly interested, and finally I pulled out my 
jockey's license and also showed it. 

"Nom de Dieu!" bellowed one of them, "it is 
Mitchell, the jockey!" 

"It is," I assured him, "and now we can't wait 



«1 



104 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

any longer. You can see for yourselves that we are 
utterly exhausted. If you need us further you can 
get us at once." 

'Where are you going?" he asked me. 

'To my brother-in-law's, Mr. Thomas Peacock, just 
a little way around the comer," I told him. 

They allowed us to go, but I was at once aware 
that a lad was following us. Once he passed us, look- 
ing mightily indifferent, and slowed down again. He 
certainly saw us enter the house I had mentioned. 

Before leaving I had told these men that I would 
call in the morning, in case there was any answer to 
be taken back. 

We lost no time in getting in. My brother-in-law 
was absent, but his wife and brother were there. 
They received us like lost sheep, absolutely delighted 
to see us. Scarcely could they get over their surprise, 
for the general impression was that everything had 
been blown up and nearly every one killed in the dis- 
tricts we came from. 

At once they made some tea ready for us, which 
gave us most needed refreshment. We had been af- 
forded a badly needed opportunity of washing up a 
little. My boy was so utterly exhausted that after 
some tea and bread and butter, with a little fish that 
was prepared for him, he asked to go to bed, where 
he was soon dead to the world. I went out to pur- 
chase the provision of tobacco and cigars and ciga- 



PARIS AT LAST 105 

rettes I needed, the promise of which had greatly fa- 
cilitated our journey. A little later we had dinner, 
as my brother-in-law returned. When this was fin- 
ished he was most anxious to hear more about my 
journey but I was nodding helplessly in my chair. 
Finally I staggered off to bed, where I fell asleep like 
a dead man. Our experiences had been too exciting, 
I suppose, for a couple of hours later I awoke with a 
start, and kept on tossing about for most of the re- 
mainder of the night. 

We rose but a short time before eight o'clock in 
the morning and, after breakfast, looked over some 
of the stuff we had to take back with us. Then I 
made my way over to the Gendarmerie. When I en- 
tered the head official was in the reception room and 
came over to me. 

"You are Mr. Mitchell?" he asked me. 

I confirmed his statement and he asked me to step 
into another room with him, where he bade me sit 
down. I perched myself upon a high stool that stood 
there. 

"Now what can I do for you?" he asked me. 

"I have come to know whether there is any answer 
to the letter I brought you." 

"Do you know what was in it?" he inquired. 

"No, I never looked at it," I replied. 

"Have you any idea of the nature of the message?" 
he asked again. 



106 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

"Of course," I said. 

"Well, tell me what it is," he said, looking keenly 
at me. 

"I'll never tell that to any one," I answered. 

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, 
sharply. 

"You have the note and I give you my word I never 
looked at it," I told him. "Of course I must have 
formed some opinion about the nature of this errand 
but I don't feel disposed to give it to any one." 

"Well, perhaps you are right," he admitted. 
"Now tell me what I can do for you." 

"I want my answer for the Mairie in Gouvieux," I 
told him, "and it should be a verbal one because I 
don't care about carrying papers again. We found 
it rather risky. Also I wish you would give me a 
passport so that I may get through your lines without 
hindrance." 

He at once complied with tkis request, giving passes 
both to my son Freddie and myself. 

"As to the answer," he said, "tell them at Gouvieux 
that we will do all in our power to execute the com- 
mission as soon as possible; perhaps within twenty- 
four hours." 

Then he turned to Freddie, putting his hand on the 
lad's shoulder. 

"I wish you a safe journey, my boy," he said, in 
a voice that showed some emotion. "I hope with all 



PARIS AT LAST 107 

my heart that I shall be able to see you again soon, 
my brave little boy, as well as your father." 

He accompanied us to the door and watched us 
for a moment as we went down the street. 

So we took the tramway again for St. Denis. Go- 
ing over to the cafe where we had left the bicycles I 
found that my boy had some room left in his pockets, 
so I went into a shop and bought a further supply, 
being anxious to bring back all we could carry. In 
the cafe we had some lunch, after which we started, 
at noon or shortly after. 

Freddie had rested well during the night, and had 
pretty nearly got over his emotions. In the tram- 
way, however, I had been surprised when he leaned 
his head on my shoulder, looking at me with eyes that 
expressed wonder: 

"Dad dear," he said. "How did you ever man- 
age to keep up so strongly? I never thought you 
could have held yourself in so bravely, and never al- 
lowed them to suspect that anything was up. I felt as 
if I must give way, more than once, and if they had 
taken me away from you I'm afraid I would have 
become so crazy that I would have told them about 
that letter you carried. I'm so happy now that you 
managed to put them off the track. I — I couldn't 
speak about it last evening. It seems to me that my 
head was whirling. All night I was dreaming about 
our journey, and I wonder how we shall manage to 



108 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

get back. But I have confidence now for I know you 
can beat them. I think I've become twenty years 
older since yesterday. Of course I'm only a boy, but 
I feel that I have learned ever so much — ^more than 
I ever expected to learn. I shall be very careful in 
future, on our trips here and back. Please, Dad, 
promise me that in future you will always take me 
with you, even for short distances around home?" 

He stopped a moment, while I touched his hand to 
calm him, but he went on: 

"When you spoke to me in that wood about the Col- 
onel's passport and his signature I hadn't the slightest 
idea that you were trying to make them tell you to 
put on your clothes again. I was sure that in a mo- 
ment we would both be bayonetted or shot, especially 
when you began to unlace that right boot. Oh, Dad ! 
How I trembled! I shall never forget it as long as I 
live." 

The poor boy was pouring out his heart to me, 
and I could see how terribly trying his experience had 
been to him. 

The day was again a hot one. We looked after 
our bicycles and saw that they were in good order, 
and by noon we were on our way. The obstacles on 
the road gave us ever so much trouble, as had hap- 
pened on the previous way. It was very fatiguing 
to be obliged to go back and forth across the fields, 
carrying our machines with their heavy loads. With 



PARIS AT LAST 109 

this sort of thing we had constantly to contend, till 
at last we came to the French sentry. He came up to 
us, being joined by other soldiers, and asked where 
we were going. We willingly told him, but it was 
not our friend of the day before, and he had to go 
through all sorts of formalities and to make inquiries 
whether or not he should let us pass. All this, of 
course, meant vexatious delay, and we were glad 
enough when some one in authority decided that we 
might be permitted to continue our journey. 

After this we travelled about four miles further, 
overcoming more difficulties on the way and having 
again to carry our machines till we could come to 
clear portions of the road, and we came across an- 
other French sentry. This soldier knew us, however, 
for he had seen us on the day before and he at once 
took us over to the Major's quarters. The latter 
asked me what sort of reception we had received in 
Paris. We were eager to let him know that we had 
met with the most cordial reception, and kept up some 
conversation with him for a few minutes. I could 
see that he was very curious to know all about our 
trip to Paris, and especially to hear how in the world 
we had managed to get through the German posts on 
our way. I had to explain to him that I hardly had 
time to give him all this information, as we had to 
hurry on, but told him that I would probably be back 
on the following day, when I hoped to be able to tell 



110 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

him more of our experiences. He seemed to appre- 
ciate the fact that we did not want to dwell much on 
this subject. The good fellow realized that our ex- 
perience had been a rather distressing one. He had 
seen, on the previous day, how badly upset and played 
out we were, and sympathized with us heartily. 

"That experience of yours should certainly be re- 
warded by a medal," he told me, "even without count- 
ing your success in getting your message to Paris." 

"Well," I answered, "I certainly thought I was go- 
ing to get the famous 'wooden cross' yesterday morn- 
ing, and so did my son." 

"Ah!" he answered. "That's a brave little fellow. 
I am very sure you will get a better cross than that 
one, and I know that France will never forget what 
you have accomplished in taking that letter to its des- 
tination, through such terrible difficulties and facing 
such dangers. Whatever may have been its import- 
ance, I am certain that if you don't obtain your deserts 
during the war France will always be grateful for 
what you have done for her and for the poor people in 
your villages." 

"Well," I told him, "there was no other way of 
looking after those poor folk. I hope that what I 
have been able to do will show that I have tried to do 
my bit." 

The Major shook my hand, in the friendliest way, 
and wished us a safe journey back. 



PARIS AT LAST 111 

So we continued our trip until we reached Lu- 
zarches, where we stopped at a pump to have a drink 
of water and rest for a few minutes. I took this occa- 
sion to warn my boy to be most careful about every- 
thing he said. 

"If they ask you any questions," I told him, "never 
look at me when you answer. Reply to them one by 
one, as they come, and don't appeal to me by word 
or look for this will certainly arouse their suspic- 
ions." 

After this we resumed our journey and had cov- 
ered about a couple of miles when we came across two 
Germans. They halted us and asked us where we 
were going, and I told them. 

"Yes," said one of them. "You passed thiough 
here yesterday. I remember you. Did you bring 
back those cigarettes?" 

"Yes," I answered, "and I will be glad to let you 
have a package of them, and some tobacco." 

"You should have brought us more than that," he 
said, rather displeased. 

I explained that we had brought some more but that 
we had promised them to his friends further on. 
Otherwise, I told him, we would have been able to 
give him a larger supply. I was careful to tell him 
that we would be passing on this road every day or 
two, if he and the other soldiers would allow us to, 
and that we would be only too glad to render them any 



112 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

little services in our power. This seemed to affect 
him quite favourably, and he appeared to be quite 
won over to us. 

Well pleased with the result of this meeting we 
went on until we reached the Oak Tree, which we ap- 
proached with some misgivings. Our terrible experi- 
ence there was too recent to allow of our passing it 
without a shudder. We saw men gathered near it, 
and went up to them, feeling rather nervous. We 
were glad to find that they were the same who had 
stopped us on the previous day and they appeared to 
be quite delighted to see us again, wanting to know 
what we had brought. I told them they might as 
well search for themselves, expressing my readiness 
to undress again. 

"No," said one of them. "Tell us what you have. 
Are you carrying any letters?" 

I truthfully answered that we had none, although 
we had brought one or two newspapers, but that we 
had the cigarettes and tobacco we had promised to 
bring back. I had brought each of them a package of 
"Marylands" and another of "Soldier's Tobacco." 
They actually paid me a mark each for the supply, 
which I accepted rather as a souvenir than as pay 
for my trouble. After this they asked me if it would 
be possible for me to have some letters mailed for 
them in Paris. I intimated that this would be quite 
easy and that I could see no harm in doing it. I 



PARIS AT LAST 113 



knew, of course, that every letter would be censored 
in Paris, and that it might perhaps give the Govern- 
ment an opportunity of learning something, so that 
I thought my acting as a mail-carrier might be of 
some advantage. It would further ingratiate me with 
the men and might also be of service to France. I 
promised to take them with me if they would have 
them ready on the next day. 

When we reached Lamorlaye several of the inhabi- 
tants came out and asked us for news. It must be 
realized that for weeks we had all been in complete 
ignorance of what Was taking place. I had to tell 
them that there was nothing encouraging in the news 
but that we would try to gather more information on 
our next trip. We went around to the Mairie and 
suggested that if the official might have it announced 
that we would be ready, on the next day, to convey 
letters to Paris. They would have to be directed in 
care of my brother-in-law, 99 Rue le Gendre, and 
must all be left unsealed so that they might be ex- 
amined by either Germans or French. I said that I 
would seal and mail them myself upon arrival, and 
that the writers must instruct their correspondents to 
send replies to the same address. They were loud in 
their appreciation of what I was ready to do for them. 

Without hindrance we continued our journey to 
our own village of Gouvieux, a distance of some two 
miles. The people seemed to be nearly crazed with 



114 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

joy at our return, and I shall never forget the recep- 
tion they gave us. The poor things were weeping and 
laughing at the same time, as they lifted up their arms 
and cheered when they saw us coming. The joy of 
these people really seemed like some sort of compen- 
sation for all that we had endured. I need, of course, 
say nothing in regard to the happiness with which my 
wife and daughter received us. They had been de- 
voured with anxiety and had feared the worst. 

My first visit was to the Mairie, where I delivered 
the verbal message that I had been entrusted with by 
the Prefect of Police. When we 'related our experi- 
ence the official appeared to be too overcome to be able 
to speak. He could only shake our hands and pat 
us on the shoulders, so great was his emotion. On 
our side we were too weary to wish to enter into long 
explanations. When we reached home again the news 
of our return had reached every nook and corner, and 
every individual capable of walking had come up to 
the house. 

My wife and daughter were weeping with joy and 
the poor old men and women were moved to tears also. 
But it was utterly impossible for us to tell them at this 
time all that we had been through, for we were stag- 
gering with fatigue. The distance to St. Denis, about 
30 miles, is by no means such as to try an ordinary 
bicycle rider's strength, but we had been obliged to 
carry our wheels for long distances in the burning 



PARIS AT LAST 115 

sun and to undergo emotions that had fairly played 
us out. 

Before reaching our village I had given my boy 
strict injunction to keep as quiet as possible and to 
make no mention whatever of the various means by 
which we had managed to get through. I greatly 
feared, of course, that our German invaders should 
decide to prevent us from repeating this journey. 

After some rest and refreshment I took a newspaper 
over to each of the Mairies, and another on the fol- 
lowing morning to Chantilly. On my way there I met 
a squad of some sixty Germans, who halted me and 
put the usual question : 

"Where are you going?" 

I replied that I was taking a paper to the Mairie, so 
that it might be posted up there for every one to see. 
The German officers seized it at once and looked over 
it quickly. They were delighted to read that their 
army was making tremendous progress through Bel- 
gium. It was splendid news to them. They made 
no further inquiries. The man exclaimed "Bravo!" 
and told me I might go on. 

I delivered the paper to the Mairie and explained 
some of the incidents of our journey, after which I 
started back home. On my return I met one or two 
lads who had been working in the stables and a few 
elderly men. They asked my opinion about things 
generally. 



116 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

"One has to keep everything one knows about it 
to oneself," I told them. "A lot of queer things are 
going on now and the less one talks about it the bet- 
ter. It isn't wise to do any talking before the enemy 
has disappeared from these places. That's the best 
and only advice I can give you." 

Indeed, I could see that it was becoming more and 
more important to be secretive, for we were all about 
as safe as the traditional boy sitting on the safety- 
valve of the racing Mississippi steamer. The Huns 
were so confident that early and absolute victory was 
in their grasp, and had been so little interfered with 
in our district, that our villages had been among the 
very few that had been spared. But I realized that 
these conditions might change at any minute. 



CHAPTER IX 

THE LOOT BEGINS 

Upon reaching home I found that my son had re- 
ceived peremptory orders to get more biscuits ready. 
I exclaimed that those blessed biscuits would be the 
death of me. Freddie had already begun to do some 
baking and a few minutes later we were both hard at 
work. 

My wife asked me if she could not help us but I was 
rather afraid to have her do so, as Germans might 
have come in at any time and seen her in the bakery. 
No woman, saving perhaps the oldest ones in the vil- 
lage, was safe from insult, and the few there were 
kept themselves indoors in their houses or in the old 
cave. But she insisted and said that if the Germans 
came in she would run into the back room and keep 
out of the way. She proved of the greatest help to 
us and, as a matter of fact, could beat the two of us 
put together. We got on wonderfully well and made 
considerable progress. After we had been working 
for several hours she persuaded us to take a rest as 
we were facing the hard journey to Paris on the next 
day. 

117 



118 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

When we returned home I found that my boy had 
not been able to keep entirely silent. He had re- 
vealed some of the incidents of the trip to his sister, 
who immediately repeated them to her mother, with 
the idea that we might perhaps be persuaded to give 
up such dangerous work. My mind was made up on 
this question, however. I deemed it of the greatest 
importance to keep up communication with Paris as 
long as it could be done. It was also a means of 
entering into the good graces of the German soldiers, 
by keeping them supplied with the tobacco they 
missed so greatly. Finally the carrying of letters for 
the inhabitants was bound to be of the greatest service 
to them. I felt also that we had opened the way and 
that our further trips would prove less difficult. 

On the following morning I went over to the Mairie, 
at about eight o'clock. Orders were immediately is- 
sued that a man should be sent around to each village 
to announce that letters would be taken to Paris by me 
and that they were to be brought to the Mairies of the 
villages clustered near us so that they might be col- 
lected. My brother-in-law's address was given, so 
that replies might be sent there. It must be under- 
stood that there was absolutely no other means of 
communicating with their friends and relatives or 
with their men fighting at the front. 

Finally it was understood that all the mail would 
be ready and gathered at the Mairie's. 



THE LOOT BEGINS 119 

The time came for us to start, and we were better 
equipped, this time. We carried a few provisions 
with us and were loaded with a rather large bundle 
of mail. At Lamorlaye we stopped and collected a 
few more letters which had been left for us there. 
Words can hardly express the gratitude of the poor 
people we thus obliged. It was a comfort to all these 
sufferers and indeed it was with real happiness that I 
was undertaking to do this for them, knowing how 
greatly they appreciated it. 

We went past Lamorlaye, and I cannot say that we 
approached the famed Oak Tree in the easiest frame 
of mind. My boy, I could see, was pretty nervous 
about it. Our previous experience there had eaten 
pretty deeply into his soul. When the men sum- 
moned us again to halt we dismounted at once, and 
Freddie whispered to me, anxiously: 

"Oh! Dad! It's coming again!" 

I think I managed to look perfectly calm, however, 
and we put down our bicycles and exhibited our pack- 
ages. The men asked us what we had in them and 
we opened everything. They carefully inspected all 
that we had and then ordered us to take off our coats. 
This we proceeded to do with less anxiety than on the 
previous occasion. Search as they might, we knew 
that we had nothing that could lead to our instant 
execution. 

These men did not constitute the same group that 



120 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

had already interviewed us, and they had to be satis- 
fied all over again. I produced my jockey's license 
and my German "passport," but they stripped us to 
the skin, saving the fact that this time they allowed us 
to keep on our trousers and our boots. 

The letters we carried appeared to be very objec- 
tionable and, in consequence of this, they kept us for 
about three quarters of an hour, examining them very 
thoroughly. They held a consultation, speaking 
among themselves very excitedly and appearing to 
be discussing all sorts of formalities. Finally they 
sent one of the soldiers with a message to some post 
in the neighbourhood, and of course we were closely 
guarded till he should return. When he came back 
an officer was with him and, fortunately, he recognized 
me. 

"Oh! It's you, Mitchell," he said. "Then every- 
thing's all right." 

Never in my life have I heard words that meant 
more cheer to me, for we were beginning to think 
we were again in a most unpleasant situation and the 
trip began to seem like a very ugly one again. In 
fact we had begun to suspect that we were going to 
meet our doom this time. When the messenger had 
left we certainly thought he had gone for orders to 
proceed to our execution. 

The officer went on: 

"I understand that you are going on to Paris." 



THE LOOT BEGINS 121 

"Yes, I expect to go every other day," I replied. 
"I have found that I can be useful to our villagers 
in a good many ways. Many of them are nearly 
starving. We expect to bring back some provisions, 
with cigarettes and tobacco, and we want to mail let- 
ters for them if you will allow us to do so." 

He thought over this for a moment. 

"Well, I don't think there will be any harm in that 
if our men are always given the opportunity to read 
them over. Should you conceal any of them I sup- 
pose you know what you can expect. When do you 
intend to come back?" 

I told him that we hoped to return on the next day. 

"All right," he said, "and there is one thing I 
want you to do for me. You are to bring me a box 
of a hundred Abdullah cigarettes — ^Turkish pre- 
ferred. To any one who asks you you may say that 
they are for Lieutenant S." 

Instead of giving me German money in payment he 
surprised me by handing to me fourteen francs. 
During all this time we had been compelled to remain 
unclothed. With his permission we got dressed again 
while he remained at our side until we were ready to 
start. 

We went on, losing no time, for we had been de- 
layed a long time, but we were halted again a little 
farther on, and put through the usual questioning. 

In my dealings with those soldiers I soon discov- 



122 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

ered that the one thing they were always craving for 
was tobacco and cigarettes. This time we were not 
treated too roughly, and the interview ended with 
their handing out more money for such supplies. 
They were French francs again. Of course I had ex- 
plained to them that I had scarcely any money and 
that I would have to pay for those things in Paris. 
So anxious were they that they made not the slightest 
objection to paying at once for them. 

Of course I have not the slightest doubt that this 
silver had been looted from poor French people. Un- 
der the circumstances, however, I could hardly ex- 
press to these soldiers my true feelings. I could only 
pocket the money and start off again, thankful that 
another obstruction to our progress had been 
passed. 

After arriving at Luzarches we had a bite to eat, 
after which we started off and met no further hin- 
drance till we came to the French recruits, drilling 
away for dear life. We knew that we were bound to 
come across a sentry on duty at the next post. A 
number of soldiers were there and recognized us at 
once. They escorted us at once to our friend the 
Major, where all our letters were inspected and re- 
turned to us, with thanks for our efforts to relieve the 
minds of our poor villagers. The Major shook hands 
with me and told me that we might go on at once, also 
saying that he had entire confidence in me and that we 



THE LOOT BEGINS 123 

would never be troubled in the; future, if he possibly 
could help it. 

He also urged me, when I had a few minutes to 
spare, to come and tell me the full story of my first 
trip to Paris and of what we had undergone on the 
journey. He added that it was a pity he could not 
start at once with those boys who were in training and 
clear those Germans out. I presume that he had to 
obey higher orders, but I could see that the inaction 
irked him badly. 

On we went, and when we came to the next sentry 
we had rather more trouble in getting through. We 
were detained all of a half an hour, but at last we were 
permitted to go through, after having passed a regular 
third degree of questions, all of which, fortunately, 
we were able to answer satisfactorily. At last the 
way lay open before us and at St. Denis we were glad 
indeed to reach the cafe where we put up our machines 
again. Returning to the Police Station we delivered 
some messages that had been given us verbally, and 
we explained about the letters we carried. I was 
told to post them wherever it might be convenient. 
At my brother-in-law's I obtained permission to have 
replies sent there, in his care. After this we visited 
several other places in Paris and near by. We were 
by no means as exhausted as we had been on the first 
trip. The way had doubtless been as hard, but sav- 
ing for the long delay at the Oak Tree and the scare 



124 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

undergone there, we had met with a great deal less 
trouble and had not been nearly so worried and fright- 
ened. We actually took the time to indulge in a little 
recreation at a moving picture show, after which we 
went back to dine at my brother-in-law's. These dear 
people were glad indeed to see us again and were feel- 
ing somewhat reassured by this time, yet they were 
kept on the anxious seat about us and were glad 
enough to know we were in safety. 

In the morning we started a little earlier. We had 
twelve letters, to be distributed in Lamorlaye, Chan- 
tilly and Gouvieux. I also procured several French 
papers. I could not get any English ones as the Daily 
Mail, I believe, had suspended publication for a short 
time in Paris. The New York Herald was being 
printed as usual. I was rather careful to look into 
the papers I was bringing, for it was not at all to our 
interest that the Germans should know that Great 
Britain had declared war against them. 

I may say here that a good many of the Germans 
took me for an American. Over my house was a 
large sign, displaying the words, "Anglo-American 
Kennels," and I had constantly been employed as a 
jockey for American owners who had second call for 
my services. I don't suppose that either an American 
or an Englishman would be for a moment in doubt as 
to my nationality, but these Boches were unfamiliar 
with the peculiarities of various accents. This idea 



THE LOOT BEGINS 125 

of theirs, I think, prevented them later on from abus- 
ing me as severely as they might have done, had they 
deemed me a native of the tight little isle. 

We got the tobacco, of course, for it was the best 
passport we had through the German lines, but I had 
a great deal of trouble in obtaining Lieutenant S's 
cigarettes and it cost me quite a trip. Finally I got 
them and started towards home again. 

This time everything went most smoothly through 
the French lines — ^by this time they all knew what 
our errands were for and what we carried — ^but when 
we reached the first German sentries they were exceed- 
ingly abusive and harsh. It was quite evident to me 
that they had been drinking heavily; one or two of 
them could hardly stand up. 

"Where are those cigarettes you promised to bring 
us, and which we paid you for?" asked one of them, 
truculently, and accompanying his question with 
beastly profanity and insult. 

I was angry all through, of course, but of course I 
knew that beggars can't be choosers. If I had not 
kept my temper at this time, as I was forced to only 
too often later on, this story would probably never 
have been told. I pulled out the cigarettes and to- 
bacco, which calmed them down again to some extent 
so that at last, thanking bur stars, my boy and I kept 
on our way. 

At the old Oak Tree we found the customary six on 



126 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

guard, who were rather more decent to us. I gave 
them their supplies and a newspaper, together with 
the box of cigarettes I had brought for the Lieutenant. 
They promised to deliver them to him and asked at 
what time they might expect us the next day. I re- 
plied that they would see us some time between eleven 
and twelve, in all likelihood, and they told me that 
they would have some letters for me to mail in Paris. 

After this we delivered a few letters in Lamorlaye, 
with a couple of papers, and hurried on to Gouvieux 
where we stopped at the Maine's vt^ith the rest of the 
letters and more papers that were eagerly pounced 
upon. 

When we reached our house my wife and daughter 
were overjoyed to see us again. They had, of course, 
worried somewhat less than on the first occasion, but 
the waiting was none the less somewhat anxious for 
them. Some of the villagers came, hurrying towards 
us, and congratulated us. The good old priest ob- 
tained one of the papers I had brought, and scanned 
it anxiously. His emotion was pitiful when he read 
that the Germans had invaded the little place where 
he was born and had been reared. He told us that 
his old parents still lived there, and he was beside 
himself with grief and the fear that they might have 
come to some harm. According to the news he read, 
and which was afterwards confirmed, the little village 
had been utterly destroyed by fire. The poor old 



THE LOOT BEGINS 127 

Cure tried for a moment to control his feelings, but 
the task was beyond his strength. He burst into tears, 
weeping like a stricken child. He was not alone in 
his grief, being so well loved that others, sympathiz- 
ing with him, had to cry also. 

The poor man left us, bowed down with sorrow, 
and went off to his church in which he disappeared. 
We only saw him again in the evening. He was still 
carrying that paper, nor would he allow any one to 
take it from him, although we had only two and many 
were anxious to read them. The last we saw of him 
that night he was still holding on to it as if it must be 
some sacred thing he couldn't part with. 

I then rode my wheel off towards some places in 
the neighbourhood, to see how things had been prog- 
ressing. I reached a chateau we knew as tlie "Old 
Mill," a place that had been recently refurnished and 
beautifully decorated. The doors had been thrown 
open and the sight, when I entered, was so revolting 
as to sicken me. All the furniture was absolutely 
shattered — a beautiful and costly bed was broken to 
bits — and nearly everything that would go through 
the windows had been thrown out, the wreckage strew- 
ing the ground. The outrages that had been commit- 
ted would be beyond belief, had such beastliness not 
been repeated so far and wide throughout the invaded 
country that thousands upon thousands have seen such 
sights. Absolutely nothing had been left undone that 



128 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

could mar the beauty of the splendid old place. And 
everywhere, in beds, on costly carpets haK consumed, 
upon the walls, yes, and to the very ceiling, the swin- 
ish Huns had scattered and smeared and spattered 
their personal filth. Thus had they proclaimed the 
glory and "Kultur" of their sacrosanct Empire. 
Thus had they gloried in demonstrating their civiliza- 
tion and showing their contempts for the peoples of 
this world that are incapable of following such a lead 
in the upward march of humanity. 

The sight had made me ill, and I returned, nau- 
seated, to break the news to the villagers. One poor 
old man told me that he had passed that way on the 
previous evening. He had heard a tremendous noise 
within the gates of the chateau, while inside the yard 
there had been some twenty or thirty German soldiers. 
They had impressed him as being all more or less 
drunk, and he had hurried back to the church and told 
this to the people who had taken refuge in the old 
cave, imploring them to keep very still as there were 
a lot of Boches on the road to Chaumont who would 
certainly make trouble if they came this way. I has- 
tened to my house and told this to my people. When 
my wife heard about the smashing up of all the beau- 
tiful things she broke down and cried like a child. 
This destruction was nothing short of a crime, a most 
useless and dastardly one, for no one had hindered 
them in any way and everything in the place was of 




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FEED MITCHELL'S PERMIT TO REMAIN IN THE 
WAR ZONE 




THE LOOT BEGINS 129 

nearly priceless value, since very few of the objects 
collected there could ever be restored or duplicated. 
Such were the first real evidences of Hunnish re- 
finement that I saw. These sights were soon to be- 
come only too familiar to me, unfortunately. 



CHAPTER X 

NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 

After supper I went again to the bakery, where I 
worked hard for about three hours, only stopping 
when I was utterly unable to stand to my work. I 
had but little rest that night, rising at five in the 
morning. Going to the kennels I busied myself, to 
the best of my ability, with some veterinary work 
needed by some dogs that had been quarantined. It 
soon became time for me to leave this off and go 
around for the letters I was to take to Paris. Every 
day, as more and more people kept hearing about my 
trips, the mail-pouch grew more voluminous. 

We were off again at half past eleven, cheered by 
the brightly shining sun and hoping that it was an 
omen of good luck. In this I must say that we were 
disappointed, for it proved to be the worst of the jour- 
neys we had yet undertaken. 

On the way to Lamorlaye I was halted by soldiers 
unacquainted with me, who inspected my bags and the 
letters. These were thrown contemptuously all over 
the road, after which they ordered us away. This 
squad of men acted towards us in such an ugly way 

130 



NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 131 

that we were glad indeed to escape from them with 
our lives. We rode on for a short distance but I kept 
looking back. The men disappeared in the woods 
and I decided to attempt to get those letters. Return- 
ing, I picked them up as fast as I could. They were 
not in very bad condition, as the weather was dry. 
They were only rather soiled but otherwise none the 
worse. I don't think I missed a single one. 

This occurrence had not served to quiet our nerves 
very much, and poor Freddie was rather badly shaken, 
as I was also, to tell the truth. We had noticed that 
the manner of these men was most unfriendly and 
brutal and we feared that further trouble might be 
brewing. Nor were we disappointed in our expecta- 
tion. That old Oak Tree always seemed to be a sort 
of Waterloo for us. We were absolutely sure to be 
stopped there and we wondered what was waiting for 
us this time. 

About fifty of the Boches were on guard this time, 
with their rifles stacked up all around them. Their 
order to halt was shouted out fiercely, and they com- 
manded us to go out into the woods, leaving our 
wheels on the ground. They marched us off" for 
about two hundred yards — two men with fixed bay- 
onets keeping all too close behind us. These men 
were so terribly truculent and rough that this time 
there was no doubt in our minds that this was the 
finish. 



132 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

We were compelled to undress again, to the very- 
last stitch this time — shoots and stockings and every- 
thing. But of course they were unable to find any- 
thing. This simply seemed to aggravate their furi- 
ous tempers till they were in a towering rage. The 
least thing might have made them use the weapons 
they were brandishing in our faces. 

But here our lucky star shone again. A soldier 
who had come over a different road came near to see 
what was the matter. The fellow had seen us on 
other occasions and had received some cigarettes from 
us. At once he explained to the sergeant in charge 
of the squad that we were the men who had brought 
tobacco and other things to them from Paris. I had 
unfortunately, on this occasion, forgotten my "Ger- 
man Passport" and had been unable to identify my- 
self to their satisfaction. But the luck held out. 
The man explained what I had done not only for the 
men but for the Colonel himself. As soon as they 
heard this they told us to put on our clothes again and 
go on our way. Thankfully we obeyed and at last 
made another start. We had not gone more than a 
couple of hundred yards or so when bullets whizzed 
by us and we heard five or six shots ringing out. 
Whether they meant to kill us or merely to frighten 
us I am sure I don't know, but they certainly accom- 
plished the latter. A few hundred yards away we 
were stopped again, but these soldiers only wanted to 



NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 133 

give us money to bring them back more cigarettes. It 
appears that one of the men at the post we had just 
left had been observing us through his glasses. When 
he saw that we had stopped and were receiving the 
money he leaped on his horse and came thundering 
after us. He asked the soldiers what they were doing 
and they explained the transaction. He was molli- 
fied at once. 

"Oh! I didn't know that you would do that," he 
said, "or I should have asked you to bring me some." 

Of course I had to say that I would be glad to 
oblige him, at which he looked rather surprised. 

"Do you mean to say that you will do this in spite 
of the way we have treated you?" he asked. 

As diplomatically as I could I answered that I sup- 
posed he had only been doing his duty in seeing that 
we were not engaged in anything that would be harm- 
ful to the troops. 

"I'm glad you take it that way!" he stated. 

To this I innocently answered that I could not see 
that there was any other way to take it, and he asked 
us to bring him five francs' worth of cigars and five 
packages of cigarettes. Before leaving us he asked 
us the usual question and we replied that we would 
be back on the following afternoon about four-thirty 
or five o'clock. 

"I shall be on guard with five men and await your 
return," he told me. "But if anything should pre- 



134 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

vent my doing so you can put the cigars and cigarettes, 
and some matches, in the hollow of this tree. Place 
three stones at the foot of the tree and then I will 
know that you have left them for me." 

So we left him, able to breathe fairly freely again. 
When we reached Luzarches I asked my son if he 
wished to stop at the fountain for a drink of water. 
He answered that he was very thirsty and would like 
to do so. This was the first time that I had become 
really alarmed about the boy's condition. He was 
beginning to show very plainly how trying these or- 
deals had been for him, and was shaking all over, 
showing that his nerves were getting badly frayed. 
I had a small bottle in my saddle-bag, which contained 
a little port wine. I gave him a swallow of this and 
it seemed to revive him and brace him up to some 
extent. But he was still greatly excited: 

"Oh, Dad!" he cried, "this is getting worse all the 
time!" 

"We mustn't grumble, my boy," I told him. "We 
haven't been hurt yet." 

He was very uneasy yet, however. 

"What would have become of us if that officer 
hadn't arrived just in the nick of time?" he asked. 

To this I could only answer that by this time we 
would be bound to meet some soldier who knew us, 
whenever we were stopped. I told him to remember 
that thus far we had got through safely each time and 



NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 135 

that we had been very fortunate, seeing that I had for- 
gotten the Colonel's "passport." 

I had not missed the thing until we had been halted 
at the place where all our letters were scattered on the 
ground, and of course it had been too late to return 
for it, for we would have been compelled to get by 
the very same men again. 

"The thing that worries me most," said my boy 
after a moment, "is to think that those brutes may 
have taken the road to our house. I wonder what 
would happen if they took it into their heads to search 
it and make trouble for mother and Florence?" 

I tried to reassure him, but these words awakened 
in me a keen anxiety and I never ceased to worry 
over the matter during our trip to Paris and back. 

On this occasion we hardly had any trouble at all 
in passing the French lines. We were allowed to go 
through without the slightest difficulty or delay, so 
that we reached our destination an hour or so before 
we had expected to. After my boy had eaten a good 
meal he looked ever so much better. If he felt re- 
vived, however, I was feeling worse every moment, as 
I kept constantly thinking of those men who had 
stopped us. They had been badly under the influ- 
ence of liquor and I continued to worry over what 
road they might have taken after they had left us. 

I had a lot to do in Paris, of course, and this kept 
me busy till dinner time. I decided to start two 



136 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

hours earlier on the next day, since I had not been 
able to stop worrying. We did this and I was very 
glad of it, for, after passing the French lines, we were 
able to keep on at a good pace till we reached Lu- 
zarches. There we stopped to rest for about twenty 
minutes, eating our sandwiches and drinking from the 
fountain. 

Resuming our journey we took the road down to 
Lamorlaye, but a short distance away. We remarked 
that it was strange that there seemed to be no Ger- 
mans about the place, but suddenly we were halted 
by a revolver pointed at us, close to that ill-omened 
old Oak Tree. We were asked why we had stopped 
at the fountain and what we had been doing there. 
I explained how we had rested and had some lunch, 
but they ordered me to ride back there and bring two 
pails of water from the fountain. One of the soldiers 
jumped on my son's bicycle and accompanied me. 
He keenly watched me as I filled the pails. Then 
we returned and I was made to pour some of the 
water into a glass and drink it. When I had done 
this I had to sample the other pail, to show them that 
the water was all right. As they had seen us sitting 
by the fountain they had suspected us of tampering 
with it. As it was their best source of water-supply 
they had judged it best to experiment on me in order 
to see whether we had put poison in it. 

After this I asked them whether the man to whom 



NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 137 

I had promised to bring the cigars was around. They 
asked me to describe him and appeared to understand 
at once who I was referring to, saying that he would 
be back in about twenty minutes. They were rather 
uneasy at having troubled us about the water, while 
we were trying to do a favor to one of their comrades. 

"Why didn't you tell us that you were bringing 
those cigarettes?" they asked. "Then we wouldn't 
have sent you back for that water." 

My readers will understand that we were contin- 
ually coming across new men. I presume that they 
were constantly being shifted from one post to another 
and this made it harder for us since it compelled us 
to explain matters over and over again. 

The man we were waiting for finally turned up 
and looked angrily at me. 

"Why didn't you do as I told you to?" he asked 
me, sharply. 

"I couldn't," I answered. "These are not the same 
men who were here yesterday. They've made me go 
over to the fountain to get them water because they 
thought I'd poisoned it. If they had seen me rum- 
maging around a tree they would have suspected some- 
thing else. At any rate there would have been a 
chance that you might not get your cigarettes and 
cigars. Then you would have been pretty cross the 
next day." 

This seemed to amuse him and he said that it was 



138 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

all right. The soldiers were greatly surprised when 
they saw me hand over the tobacco and matches to this 
man. 

"I think that's great," said one of them to the 
others. "We ought to be grateful to these fellows 
instead of treating them as we have done. They're 
the two whose letters we scattered on the road yester- 
day. I never recognized them at first." 

It was a great sigh of relief I gave when I heard 
this, for now I could feel sure that they had not made 
the trip to Gouvieux as we had feared they would. I 
was glad indeed to find them in this place. 

We were allowed to proceed and were soon able to 
leave letters and papers at Lamorlaye. I was still so 
upset, however, that I forgot to leave any newspapers 
for the Germans. We had pretty nearly reached 
Gouvieux when we met six lancers going at full gallop 
along the road. They paid no attention to us and 
would have been upon us had we not hurriedly pulled 
out into the field. Many of these, in France, have no 
hedges or fences, and the fruit trees grow sometimes 
right up to the side of the road. Those six lancers 
kept on at breakneck speed and dashed past us, never 
even glancing our way. After we had reached Gou- 
vieux we were informed that there had been a consid- 
erable disturbance on the previous night. The men 
who were causing the trouble had been pounced upon 
by fifty men who had dashed up on bicycles. The 



NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 139 

disturbers had been drinking, of course, but had for- 
tunately done but little damage, excepting in one or 
two unoccupied houses. 

Our family and friends were glad to see us, as 
usual, and we received the warmest welcome. They 
were delighted to have the newspapers and the latest 
information from Paris. We had only just managed 
to get through our supper and were longing for a little 
rest when peremptory orders came for more biscuits. 
The Boches were improving in the matter of appetite, 
it seems, for this time they wanted six hundred of 
them ready for the following evening. I wondered 
whether I would be expected to feed the fifty thousand 
who were on their way towards us, according to the 
Colonel's information. 

"That's an awful job," I complained, "I scarcely 
feel equal to it, for I'm pretty nearly exhausted. It's 
too bad." 

But biscuits were biscuits and by this time I was 
quite convinced that Germans were Germans. There 
was no remedy for this new trouble excepting to grin 
and bear it to the best of my ability. First, however, 
I felt absolutely compelled to rest for a couple of 
hours and have something to eat. This accomplished 
wonders for me, and my boy, who managed to get four 
hours' sleep, joined his mother and myself in this 
dreadful task of providing fodder for the Germans. 
By four o'clock in the morning we had five hundred 



140 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

and fifty of those biscuits ready, so that I told my wife 
and son to leave and take their needed rest while I 
finished the job. By half past five I staggered off to 
bed and slept like a log till ten, when it was time to 
begin our preparations for another trip to Paris. 

My wife was exceedingly nervous and excited that 
morning — she begged and begged me to give up or 
postpone my trip, and I had the hardest sort of time 
to overcome her objections. I have no doubt that 
she was affected by the dangers Freddie and I had 
been passing through, so that her nerves had come on 
edge. Our exhaustion, and the worried looks I sup- 
pose we sometimes bore, made her feel that she could 
not bear to have us leave. I certainly sympathized 
with her, but I was certain that it was most important 
for us to go, so that I finally prevailed on her to allow 
us to start. 

We went around to collect our usual mail, after 
which our journey began. We managed to reach 
Lamorlaye before we were halted at some stabled 
there. The Colonel came out and asked me how I 
was faring now. I told him that I had been all the 
way to Paris and back, several times, and explained 
to him how we had managed to get through, dwelling 
to some extent upon the treatment we had received in 
several places and more particularly at the Oak Tree. 
He looked rather angry at this, and said that he would 
accompany us on his horse as far as the tree. He 



NECKS AGAIN IN JEOPARDY 141 

would find out why we had been so molested in spite 
of the card he had given us and give the men a talk- 
ing to. 

I begged him to say as little as possible about this. 
We had hitherto managed to scrape through safely 
and felt that it might be bad for us to incur the ill 
will of the soldiers by having them reprimanded. It 
might, I explained, cause us a lot of trouble in future. 
He listened to me, nodding, and seemed to think that 
these points were well taken. Riding at our side he 
covered the rest of the way to the tree, where ha 
merely told the men that I was not to be interfered 
with in any way. They might examine anything I 
carried, he told them, but must return it to us. Also 
he ordered them never to strip us again, saying that it 
was quite unnecesary, and directed them never to de- 
lay us a moment longer than was absolutely neces- 
sary. He made it a point to tell them that if they 
wished any letters mailed or wished anything to be 
brought back to them he felt very sure that we would 
do our best to accommodate them. 

For the first time we thus got by the Oak Tree 
without the sensation that we were getting pretty close 
to breathing our last. We started away confidently, 
feeling that everything was going splendidly for us 
now, and that in future we would doubtless be free 
to come and go as often as we wanted to and with very 
little hindrance. 



142 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

Freddy and I rode along, feeling very safe and 
contented. The Colonel had branched off to the left, 
through the woods, after bidding us good-bye. Sud- 
denly, after going but four or five hundred yards, 
we were peremptorily halted again and had to jump 
off in haste. 



CHAPTER XI 

A COUNTRY AFLAME 

A NUMBER of German soldiers were blocking the 
road. Harshly they ordered us to get on one side of 
it. As we were obeying this order we saw a half a 
dozen men kneeling on the grass that grew up to the 
highway. With left elbows resting on the left knee 
they were taking aim. I swiftly peered ahead. By 
the fountain at Luzarches was a French soldier dis- 
mounted from a horse. They were both drinking, 
unsuspectingly. Suddenly the shots rang out. I saw 
the horse rear a little and fall head first across the 
tank and then roll over. The man's hands appeared 
to be uplifted just a little and he sank, falling back- 
wards. For an instant the horse's feet shook con- 
vulsively. Then both were utterly still in death, while 
the Germans cheered and danced about in delight. 

"You can go now," one of them told us, "but don't 
you dare turn your heads when you get by the foun- 
tain. Ride straight on unless you want to be shot 
also." 

We were badly shaken by this sight, especially my 
boy Freddie. It was the first sudden death he had 

143 



144 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

seen, and he was trembling as we mounted again and 
rode along, passing by the fountain but never looking 
at what lay beside it. 

After this we met with no hindrance whatever, 
saving the obstructions on the roads after getting into 
the French lines. We reached Paris in good season, 
attended to our errands, and after spending the night 
at my brother-in-law^s, as usual, we started back the 
next day. 

Our loads were heavy ones on this trip, for the 
amount of mail had been increasing and we carried a 
large amount of tobacco in various forms, besides 
packages containing tea, cocoa, and other provisions 
that were utterly lacking in our villages. We started 
at about eleven and in good time reached Luzarches, 
where we were sickened when we still saw the horse 
and the poor soldier lying on the ground. A few 
minutes before reaching the fountain one or two in- 
habitants had called to us, saying that we must on 
no account touch them or even look at them, for many 
Germans were about. 

With heavy hearts we rode past this spot without 
stopping for our usual drink of cool water, and ex- 
pected to come across some of the soldiers at any 
moment. Close to the Oak Tree we dismounted, 
feeling sure that we would be called on to do so. To 
our surprise, however, no one seemed to be about, 
and we walked beside our wheels for some time. 



A COUNTRY AFLAME 145 

thinking that the men must be in the woods close by 
and might think that we wanted to ride past without 
obtaining their consent. The place seemed to be 
deserted, however, and after walking on for a few 
hundred yards we mounted our bicycles again and 
went along slowly till we reached Lamorlaye. We 
delivered the letters and papers we had for this vil- 
lage. My wife had asked me to bring a New York 
Herald with me as she wanted to read it, and I had a 
couple of copies. 

In Gouvieux we went through the usual delivering 
of letters and messages, after which we went home. 
As always our friends were anxiously awaiting our 
return and clamoured for the latest news. I gave a 
copy of the New York Herald to my wife and she was 
delighted to obtain it, since it always had much fuller 
news about England than were published in the French 
papers. In this issue there was a good deal about the 
way in which Belgium was bravely holding out, and 
statements to the effect that the French were fighting 
like demons. 

On the following morning the Colonel came to my 
house and asked me if I had heard anything about how 
matters were going in Belgium. When I told him that 
I could let him have a paper he said that he could not 
understand why I didn't get some English ones. My 
son Freddie was standing near at this moment. With 
boyish imprudence he spoke right out: 



146 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

"Why, Dad, we have that New York Herald that we 
brought along yesterday." 

I was rather provoked at his volunteering this in- 
formation, but I did my best not to show it. 

"Perhaps the Colonel would like to see it," said 
the boy again, running into the house and coming out 
with the paper. The Colonel at once threw the bridle 
of his horse to one of the men and leaned against the 
wall, scanning the pages hurriedly. 

I shall never forget the expression that his face 
assumed when he suddenly came across the news that 
General French's "contemptible little army" had 
landed in Belgium. His hand, holding the paper, 
fell to his side, and he slowly turned to me. 

"Mitchell," he said in a low voice, "the Germian 
nation is doomed. England has turned against 
us." 

The paper dropped from his hand, unheeded. At 
this moment a little boy two or three years of age, 
who had been playing in the street and whom I was 
great friends with, came running up to me. He 
looked up at the Colonel, with childish assurance, and 
the latter picked him up in his arms. The little one's 
mother had been watching us. When she saw her 
baby taken up she fell to the ground in a dead faint, 
thinking that the baby would be killed. But the 
Colonel kissed it and put him down again, gently, and 
turned to me: 



A COUNTRY AFLAME 147 

"I have four of them at home — like this," he said, 
indicating with his hand their various sizes. "I think 
that I shall never see them again, now that Great 
Britain has joined France." 

Then a look of obstinate determination came over 
him and his voice grew harsher. It may be that he 
was ashamed of having shown that there was a senti- 
mental side to his nature. At any rate he turned 
again to me, brusquely, and asked if I had any bis- 
cuits. 

I explained that we had not made any during the 
night as we had been too exhausted on our return, and 
told him that as we were not going to Paris on the 
next day we would be able to bake a lot more. 

"I have your cigars," I added. "Would you like 
to take them now?" 

He said that he would take them at once and paid 
me for them in German money. After this he asked 
if he might take the Herald with him, and of course I 
told him he was welcome to it. He said that he would 
try to look me up on the following day, and that he 
would send some of his men over for the biscuits. He 
urged me to have as many ready as I could bake. 
Then he leaned back against the wall again, wearily: 

"Look here, Mitchell, you had better keep quiet 
about the English," he told me. "Something might 
happen to me — I may be called away from this dis- 
trict at a moment's notice. I've been telling the men 



148 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

that you were an American jockey. They don't know 
the difference. Don't show those papers to any one 
and be sure to keep that card I gave you." 

I told him that I appreciated his kindness and he 
informed me that he would see me soon again. Be- 
fore leaving he asked me if I could get him a bottle 
of beer — English beer preferred. As I had a few left 
I told him that I would, and that I could let him have 
a little cheese if he cared to have some with the beer. 
This was gratefully accepted. A poor old man who 
kept the barber shop in Gouvieux came over with a 
bottle of red wine and handed it to the four men who 
were with the Colonel. They thanked him profusely. 
After he had finished his beer our friend wished us 
good day and rode off. 

I may state here that the old barber I have spoken 
of was so terribly agitated when he heard about the 
fifty thousand Germans who were coming our way that 
the shock proved too great for him and he dropped 
dead. 

I did not go to Paris the next day, having decided 
that we needed a rest badly. The Colonel, with about 
sixty men, passed through the village and told me that 
he would send eight of them later on for as many bis- 
cuits as I had been able to make ready. He hinted 
that it probably was the last time that we should be 
called on to furnish them. 

1 didn't quite know what this portended, and I 



A COUNTRY AFLAMJE 149 

wondered at what changes might be about to take 
place. I had noticed a strange new officer with the 
Colonel — a man far more abrupt and cold. I was 
very greatly perplexed, because the Colonel spoke to 
me more harshly than he ever had before, but finally 
concluded that he had done so owing to the presence 
of this other man. 

On that afternoon I rode over to Chantilly, where I 
was informed that there had been a second visit from 
the Crown Prince. In fact, he had been there on that 
very morning. His visits had produced profound 
disquiet among the people, who were greatly worried 
by them. 

In the Grande Rue I found that the tobacco shop 
had been smashed up. Everything had been torn out 
of it and the doors and windows broken or unhinged. 
As I turned to go down towards the Mairie I saw a 
large group of German soldiers. They were impor- 
tant looking fellows — dressed up in tremendously 
elaborate uniforms. But I took good care not to 
venture near them. I feel quite certain, though I 
cannot be absolutely sure, that this was the Crown 
Prince and his staff making ready to leave. They 
were apparently bound in the direction of Senlis. 
When they had finally moved away I went over to 
the Mairie and delivered a note there, after which I 
returned home. I was kept busy with the dogs in my 
kennels for some time. The poor things were badly 



150 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

in need of attention since we were forced to neglect 
them a little. When this was done I went back to the 
bakery to work over the biscuits, a job to which there 
never seemed to be an end. 

On the following day we started again for Paris. 
To our amazement we never met a single German. At 
Luzarches we thought it might still be unsafe to stop 
to examine the soldier and horse who were still lying 
on the ground. They had been there for five days 
now. We reported the matter to the first officials we 
came to on our road to Paris. 

We reached St. Denis quite early, since we had met 
no hindrance whatever saving the blocked roads. We 
had something to eat in the cafe and made the rest of 
the journey by tramway. As we got into Paris we 
were impressed by a feeling that something was about 
to happen. The people looked restless and excited. 
Rumours were current everywhere that a tremendous 
German attack was imminent. The officials ques- 
tioned me closely as to their whereabouts and I gladly 
gave them all the information I possessed. I also 
told them that by this time the Germans were doubt- 
less on the march towards Senlis. 

Next morning we left very, early. On arriving at 
Luzarches we were greatly relieved to find that the 
dead man and horse had been removed. We dis- 
mounted and got a drink of water at the fountain and 
then rode on quite fast until we reached the Oak Tree. 



A COUNTRY AFLAME 151 

We got off our machines — perhaps through sheer 
force of habit more than for any other reason, and 
looked around us, peering through the woods. They 
were quite deserted, however. At the foot of a tree I 
came across a German bayonet that had been left 
there, and tied it to my machine in order to take it 
home as a souvenir. Just before we reached Lamor- 
laye we noticed a great many people coming towards 
us, from the direction of Chantilly and Gouvieux. 
We knew that this signified trouble somewhere. 
When we reached them they sought to persuade us to 
turn back, crying out that Senlis, Creil and very 
likely Chantilly were in flames. But this did not stop 
us and we hurried on, leaving our messages at Lamor- 
laye. There had been but a very few inhabitants left 
in this place, but even the small remnant there was 
seemed to be preparing to flee. 

On the way to Gouvieux we again met a good many 
people, all of whom looked badly frightened and 
warned us against going on. 

At last we reached home and my wife cried out 
to me: 

"Oh, Fred! come quickly in the back paddock!" 

As I did so I could see great flames rising in a cloud 
of yellowish, sulphurous-looking smoke that soon 
reached our village, emitting an oily stench. Esti- 
mating the distance of this conflagration at about three 
miles or so in a straight line, I thought that it was in 



152 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

Senlis. Nor was I mistaken. To the left of this was 
Creil, and this town was also a mass of flames. My 
wife was in a frenzy of fear. 

"Our turn will come next!" she cried to me in de- 
spair. 

"No, no, don't worry," I urged her. "I'm sure 
we'll be all right. Make every preparation to remain 
in the cave tonight. There you will be perfectly safe. 
There can be no danger there." 

There was a tremendous rumbling of heavy guns 
going on, but the enemy was not being attacked and 
I never found out just what it meant. For aught I 
know they may have been at some sort of practice. 

That evening we made every preparation to be out 
of sight in case any soldiers came our way. Through- 
out the long night the smoke hung heavily over the 
surrounding country, in a huge cloud slowly borne 
by the wind and travelling down the valley from Sen- 
lis and Creil. I never closed an eye that night. 
Sleep was out of the question. 

Over a score of our poor villagers had joined us 
there. Tottering old women wept, prayed, told their 
beads endlessly. Old men were the picture of de- 
spair. All thought that the end was coming. During 
the livelong night there was a low chorus of suffering 
moans, of expressions of despair. Little children 
cried and fell asleep again, but I doubt if any of the 
older people managed even to doze. 



A COUNTRY AFLAME 153 

I Qpuld not remain in there constantly, and a num- 
ber of times I came out. The night did not seem 
very dark. I believe that the moon was shining. A 
tremendous glare lightened the sky in the direction of 
the ill-fated towns. The smoke still hung over every- 
thing, like a fog. 

And so that terrible night wore on. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED — THE BATTLE 

At about two o'clock I had gone out of the cave 
again, feeling so restless that I could not remain long 
in one position. For a short time I listened to an 
immense roaring sound that had arisen to the north- 
ward. A mighty struggle was beginning, undoubt- 
edly, and I hurried back into the cave to inform the 
weary people of this. Most of them came out. 

The buildings nearest to us seemed to be shaking 
with the tremendous commotion, even at this distance. 
Mortar was falling off from the ancient walls and 
windows were broken by this bombardment, which 
rose and fell in great waves of sound. The force of it 
was terrific and even the ground on which we stood 
appeared to tremble under our feet and to make our 
bodies vibrate with it. Far down the valley we could 
see great blasts of fire that were spat out by the can- 
nons far down the valley. 

This, we found out later, was the beginning of the 
great battle of Chamont, which lasted several days. 
It was a terrific one, attended with immense slaughter 

154 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 155 

and the repulse of an enemy that had deemed himself 
master of the great city by the Seine. It was at this 
time that a swiftly moving and endless procession of 
automobiles, trucks, auto-busses and everything else 
that could carry men swiftly, had poured out of Paris 
under orders of Gallieni. Too much has already 
been written about this great and decisive move to 
make it necessary for me to speak about it further. 
The force so rapidly transported cut off those fifty 
thousand Germans whose invasion we had been threat- 
ened with, and who had been swiftly marching to- 
wards Paris. How many dead strewed the fields and 
woods after it I cannot say. They were everywhere. 

For several days the battle continued. At times 
the firing seemed to fade away, as if the guns had 
been pushed farther from us, and again the din of it 
all would grow stronger until it seemed to arise within 
a very short distance of us. At last, however, the 
sounds began to grow dimmer till they seemed to come 
from a good many miles away. The enemy had been 
driven back. 

I had seen no one from the Mairie for a couple of 
days, although I had gone over there several times. 
When I happened to go there the officials must have 
been engaged elsewhere. A very pandemonium was 
going on; every one was excited and most of us were 
frightened half to death. 

On about the fourth day of the battle we began to 



156 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

see aeroplanes darting over our villages, and there 
was done some wonderful work by the French and 
German fliers. They were seldom near enough to 
allow of our distinguishing their nationality. All 
that we could see was that they were engaged in hot 
fights. We could look from the window of my room 
and see them plainly, sometimes three or four kilo- 
metres away. It was fearful and yet fascinating to 
watch them, as first one and then another would be 
stopped in its flight, swaying or seeming to turn som- 
ersaults, and then crashing down. Right above us 
one of these battles took place, which our eyes fol- 
lowed for a long time. At last we were able to see 
clearly that two machines were German while one was 
French. The two first came directly over our little 
town, with the third following them closely. I esti- 
mated the distance at no more than two or three hun- 
dred yards. The Frenchman was pursuing them. 
As this went on several shells fell in the back part of 
my paddocks and burst there so that I felt terribly 
alarmed about the dogs. The Germans continued to 
flee as their foe kept on chasing them, in spite of the 
heavy odds. Those French chaps are plucky fellows 
indeed. 

A few days later we resumed our journeys to Paris, 
for we were constantly in need of supplies for our- 
selves and the poor people I was trying to look out 
for. On the road terrified men would run toward us 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 157 

and ask us where the fighting was. The roar of it 
could be heard as far back as the outskirts of Paris — 
about twenty -three or twenty-four miles away. They 
appeared to be rather astonished that I was not more 
upset and frightened about it, but by this time I had 
really become accustomed to the terrific din of it all 
and knew that the fighting was gradually taking place 
further away. 

When I told all this to my brother-in-law, and ex- 
plained how close to us the battle had raged, he did 
his best to prevail upon me to bring my family at once 
to Paris. When I returned home on the next morn- 
ing I was surprised to find that a great many German 
soldiers who had been stationed in the neighbouring 
districts and villages were returning through Gou- 
vieux. They did not molest me, however, appearing 
to feel none too secure themselves, and I went at once 
to the IVJairie and delivered my letters and various 
commissions I had undertaken for them. I was 
eagerly asked for the latest news from Paris, and told 
him that everything and every one was in a turmoil 
there. On the way home I came across the Colonel 
and he hurried to me also for news. When I told 
him how excited and worried every one was in the 
city he looked at me, shaking his head. 

"So are we," he acknowledged to me. "It looks 
now as if we must be cut off and I am beginning to 
think that we shall never get back to our lines. Those 



158 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

of my men who are off towards the front may do so, 
but I'm afraid a lot of us can never get back to our 
army." 

The man looked very discouraged, although I could 
see that he had no sense of personal fear. I will say 
that he was a brave man and merely affected by the 
knowledge that things were going very badly for him 
and the rest of the German hosts. 

I had been walking with him towards the Mairie, 
having turned back after I met him. He was asked 
to enter the place and complied with the request, 
leaving his man outside. A terrible surprise awaited 
him. No sooner was he in the room than he was 
surrounded and ordered to give up his arms. Re- 
sistance was useless and he was told that he was a 
prisoner. His man was also brought in and secured. 

In order to try and console him I told him that now 
he would at any rate see his wife and children at some 
future date. 

"I know that this is your doing," he replied to me. 

I replied that it was not, and that I hoped it was all 
for the best. Before he left, in charge of some "Pom- 
piers," as the firemen are called, I thanked him for 
the kindness he had shown to me and to my family, 
as well as to the poor people of this and neighbour- 
ing villages, but he merely replied that all was fair 
in war. 

I have never seen him since. In spite of his being 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 159 

a German I have none but pleasant feelings towards 
him. Alone among his regiment of brutish and un- 
couth men he had acted as a man and a gentleman. 
It is possible that his long residence in France and 
England had given him a better polish than is usually- 
possessed by his kind. I was able to do a great deal 
for him while he commanded in our place, though 
whatever I did was practically forced upon me, but 
he recognized it civilly and treated the people hu- 
manely on the whole. I know that he must often have 
been hard put to it to restrain the beastly brutality of 
his rough and drunken horde. 

I returned home, slowly, and told my wife what had 
happened. She was delighted to hear that the Colo- 
nel had been made a prisoner, saying that she was 
glad he was now safe from harm since he had been so 
good to the poor people in all our little villages. 

For a number of days some of the men who had 
been with the Colonel kept turning up, half starved 
and badly frightened. They had thrown their guns 
and other weapons in the river and were only too 
anxious to give themselves up. It may well be real- 
ized that their demeanour had undergone a consider- 
able change. They had a hunted, shame-faced look, 
and their harsh and brutal voices were considerably 
lowered when they spoke at this time. 

Some of these soldiers, however, were still left in 
the woods. They pilfered and stole, and molested 



160 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

some of the villagers, entering the dwellings furthest 
from the villages and helping themselves with abun- 
dance of threats. 

The Pompiers, or fire-brigade, who, in France, are 
practically organized as a part of the military estab- 
lishment, came over from Paris in automobiles to 
clear these stragglers out. Six of these firemen came 
through Gouvieux and overtook me as I was riding 
my bicycle, bound for Chantilly. They stopped to 
ask me if I had seen any Germans and I told them I 
had met none of them that morning. They warned 
me to keep a good distance behind their car, as they 
expected that at any time there might be some firing of 
rifles. Unless I was on my guard, they told me, I 
might be hurt. Of course I followed out their in- 
structions to the letter. After they entered Chantilly 
the firemen turned, at the cross-roads, into the Avenue 
de la Gare. I stopped for some minutes at the inter- 
section, wondering whether anything was going to 
happen, and then went off towards the Mairie, along 
the Grande Rue. But as I turned into the latter I 
saw four Uhlans trotting abreast towards me. Their 
horses seemed badly spent. Two of the men had 
lost their caps during their flight. Taking all in all 
they looked as if they had been getting considerably 
the worst of whatever skirmish they had been into. 
I jumped off" my machine and stood watching them, 





% 



THE AUTHOR'S SOK 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 161 

thinking that trouble might come soon. One of them, 
as he passed me, snarled harshly at me: 
"What the devil are you looking at?" 
At this I turned to go on. These men would 
surely have done me some harm had they not been 
hurrying in flight. After they had gone a short dis- 
tance I turned again, impelled by my curiosity, and 
walked a little way in the direction they had taken. 
As I was doing this they turned into the Avenue de la 
Gare. I could hear the clattering of the horses over 
the paving-stones. When they reached the cross- 
roads the shooting began. The firemen opened fire 
on them. They apparently missed the Uhlans, al- 
though they brought down two of the horses, whose 
riders picked themselves up and fled. The other two 
leaped off" their mounts also and scattered off. One 
of them ran into a small cafe whose owners had fled, 
leaving a young son of theirs who had insisted on re- 
maining to look after the place. The poor lad was a 
hunchback. When the Uhlan tore into the place the 
boy was so frightfully scared that he dropped dead. 

Another one of the fleeing men went into the 
grounds of the Hotel Conde, while the other two fled 
into the woods. The firemen hunted for them a long 
time, seeking out every place they might have crept 
into and searching the woods for them. The house in 
which the boy had died was looked over, time and 



162 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

again, but the Uhlan must have dashed out through 
the back door. No trace was ever found of these 
men ; once in the deep woods they were comparatively 
safe, since these extended for miles and miles around. 
Tracking them in the thick forest was out of the ques- 
tion. 

I returned home as soon as I could, leaving the fire- 
men still searching and by no means pleased at the 
result of their ambush. On the following day Fred- 
die asked me if we couldn't go as far as Chamont. 
By this time, although we could still hear heavy firing, 
the battle lines had been pushed back a dozen or fif- 
teen miles, and the undertaking appeared to be a 
fairly safe one. I consented to go with him and have 
a look at that part of the country. After breakfast 
we went as far as Creil, riding by the side of the 
river Oise on the tow-path. As soon as we reached 
the river we had been compelled to cross it on a small 
boat in order to reach the path on the other side. The 
old man who owned the craft came out of his house. 
Freddie was looking at the river. Suddenly he threw 
up his hands in horror. 

"Look at them. Dad," he cried. "Look at all the 
bodies!" 

I could see them, all the way up and down the 
river, floating along slowly with the current. There 
seemed to be hundreds and hundreds of them. 

"Yes," said the old man when I spoke of this ter- 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 163 

rible sight, "they've been coming for a very long 
time, and so many of them." 

As we rowed across, the old fellow had to turn in 
his seat, from time to time, to see that he did not 
collide with one of them. I asked him if they were 
all Germans, and he answered that he had seen no 
others. But his advanced age and failing sight may 
possibly have deceived him. To us it seemed as if 
they wore the German field-gray, but the water and 
weeds and mud had played havoc with them, and we 
had no stomach for careful investigation. For six 
kilometres we rode beside the river, and hardly ever 
were we out of sight of these floating and rolling 
bodies. As we reached Creil, having been concealed 
by the steep embankment, we suddenly found our- 
selves fifty or sixty yards away from some Germans 
who were standing close to the bridge watching others 
who were working on it, trying to restore some sort of 
crossing. 

Immediately I whispered to Freddie to jump off 
and get into a cafe that was very near, telling him not 
to look at the Germans. We entered the place and 
the owner asked us what we desired. I told him that 
we would have some Chantilly water, which he gave 
us. I watched the Germans through the window, fear- 
ing they might molest us. We had taken the wheels 
in the house and pushed them out of a door at the 
back, which ofi'ered us a chance of getting away with- 



164 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

out being seen. As we drank, the owner went and 
stood in the doorway. 

"Look at the dirty pigs over there," he told us. 

The Germans never could have heard him, of 
course. I had noticed that they had been keeping 
their eyes on him. Suddenly one of them lifted up 
his rifle and, with quick aim, shot him dead. They 
had seen us go in, of course, and probably could make 
us out through the windows. At any rate another 
shot rang out, the bullet crashing through the glass. 

"Drop down!" I cried to Freddie, and we both did 
so as quick as a flash. Other bullets had swiftly fol- 
lowed the first ones. Whether or not they thought 
we had dropped down dead I don't know, nor can I 
say whether they came over to see. Creeping on 
hands and knees we had quickly gone out of the back 
door and mounted our wheels, pedalling away for 
dear life. We thought ourselves lucky indeed to have 
escaped. 

Such wanton killing was not a solitary example of 
the German mode of treating the inhabitants. These 
murders took place constantly, for any reason or for 
no reason at all but the lust for shedding blood. 

We journeyed on towards Senlis, which took us a 
long way around, but we were compelled to take this 
course in order to try to avoid meeting any more 
Huns. We deemed ourselves fortunate indeed at hav- 
ing escaped, for the shave had been a narrow one. 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 165 

Freddie had been terribly scared, but probably not 
more so than L He appeared to be becoming used 
to such happenings, however, for presently he laughed 
and remarked that we had been very clever to miss 
those shots. 

"It was a near thing," he concluded. "We've been 
in a little bit of war, haven't we, Dad?" 

The boy seemed to be pleased at the idea that he 
would have a lot to tell to his cousin, Bob Peacock. 

Finally we reached Senlis, and the awful devasta- 
tion was such that we could scarce believe our eyes. 
Part of the town had been bombarded. Later on the 
Germans had come into the place and, with their in- 
cendiary torches, had fired every house in the town. 
Most of the inhabitants had fled before their coming. 
Of the old and feeble that had remained few indeed 
were spared. Many of them were burnt to death in 
their houses or suff'ocated in the cellars where they 
had taken refuge. A few were still alive, however, 
and some had returned. In the streets were still some 
bodies, lying crushed beneath fallen walls. There 
were a good many corpses of Germans there, as well 
as those of French civilians. 

We had to clamber over obstructions of all sorts on 
our way through the streets. A few poor old people 
were grubbing among the ruins, weeping. The road- 
ways were piled not only with fallen brick and stone 
and mortar, but there was a large amount of broken 



166 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

glass, bits of shattered furniture and other things too 
numerous to mention. No cataclysm of nature could 
have wrought more complete devastation, and none 
but Germans would have been capable of it. As we 
went on we came across an old English friend of mine, 
who had once been a jockey. He was glad to see us 
and related some hair-raising tales in regard to the 
siege he had been through. He mentioned a man I 

used to know very well — a Mr. S , whose parents 

lived in Gouvieux. 

"S. had a revolver,'' my friend told me. "He 
swore that he would shoot the first German who put 
his foot in the town. Six of them entered it and 
stopped at the Mairie. Then they went on and came 
up to the cafe he owned. I suppose he was crazed 
with anger, for he shot as soon as they came near, 
but never hit any of them. The Germans turned 
around, riding off helter-skelter back to the Mairie, 
where they told their officers what had happened. 
Immediately about forty men were sent over to sur- 
round the cafe and take the man prisoner. Four 
others were in there at the time, and they were also 
pounced upon. Then the Huns marched back to the 
Mairie, where the Mayor and his three deputies were 
taken. On the way to the cafe the soldiers happened 
to meet a few more civilians, who were forced to join 
the others. These prisoners were marched off to Cha- 
mont, where they were placed in a row in a field. 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 167 

They shot the Mayor, and Mr. S. and the Mayor's 
secretary and were about to kill the others when a 
messenger came to say that these might be allowed to 
go free. The Mayor's body was buried with such a 
light covering of earth that it was scarcely hidden. 
The others were left as they had fallen. 

Many other tales of horror our old friend told us, 
and assured us that everything that was of any value 
in the town had been looted and taken away before 
the place had been set on fire. It was no deed of 
angered or drunken soldiery, but the systematic de- 
struction that was part and parcel of Hunnish war- 
fare. Mr. S.'s cafe had been utterly cleared of 
everything in it that was fit to drink, as had every 
similar place in the town. In fact, he told us, the 
Germans after reaching the road beyond Senlis on 
the way to Chamont, had piled up bottles on both 
sides of the highway, for a distance of over two miles, 
representing loot taken from cellars and houses and 
drinking-shops of all the towns and villages and ham- 
lets they had been through. 

That he was telling us the exact truth I am abso- 
lutely convinced. The wines and liqueurs and beer 
had disappeared, of course, by the time we went on, 
but the heaps upon heaps of broken glass at the sides 
of the road spoke eloquently of the orgies that must 
have taken place. 

After leaving my old friend and reaching Chamont 



168 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

I went to see an old English caretaker. When we 
found him I asked how he had fared during the inva- 
sion and he declared that it had been so horrible that 
he was still hardly able to believe that he was alive. 
His memories of it all seemed like evil dreams. He 
told me how he and his wife had been in the Grand 
Chateau when the German troops had first arrived, 
about eight or nine o'clock in the evening. His wife 
heard the barking of some of the dogs and said that 
they were making an unusual amount of noise. She 
advised him to go out and see what the matter was. 
But he had told her that some one was probably 
trying to get a pheasant or a rabbit from the neigh- 
bouring coverts, and that, in view of the existing con- 
ditions, it wasn't worth bothering about. 

In a very few minutes the bell rang. He answered 
the summons and as he opened the door a revolver 
was pointing at his breast. Four officers were stand- 
ing there who asked him at once what he was doing 
there, to which he replied that he was the caretaker 
of the chateau. Their next question was whether 
there were any wines at hand, and he was ordered to 
deliver the keys of the cellars. He directed them to 
the place where the wine was kept. When they came 
back, laden with all the bottles they could carry, he 
was ordered to go with his wife over to a little cottage 
the two occupied when the masters were at home. 

In order to comply with this order they had to walk 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 169 

down an avenue that passed through the grounds. 
They saw a number of men walking about under the 
trees. Fearing for their lives, the two ran back to 
the chateau and rang the bell at a side door. One of 
the officers answered and the old man asked him if he 
could not be given some protection as far as his cot- 
tage, as the roadway was full of soldiers. The officer 
blew a whistle and two men appeared at once, who 
escorted the caretaker and his wife to the cottage. 
But when they reached this they were amazed to find 
that not a thing had been left in it — all the tables, 
sideboards, beds and chairs, with everything else the 
place contained, had been piled up in the road. So 
the only thing they could do was to go over to the 
pheasantry, which was about five hundred yards away. 
In this place he used to prepare food for his young 
pheasants. There was an old sofa there and he made 
up a bed for himself and his wife, as best he could. 
They baked some sort of bread for themselves out of 
the meal that was used in feeding the birds. But for 
this, indeed, they would have been compelled to 
starve. 

On the following night he decided to see whether 
he could not manage to get a rabbit so that his wife 
could make a stew of it. This he could do in silence 
by placing small pocket-nets in runways and driving 
the game in them. After he had made his way clear 
across the park he was startled to come across an 



170 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

English soldier. To his questions the Tommy replied 
that he was trying to poach a rabbit or two, so that he 
might have a change in his diet. Then he asked the 
soldier if he knew that there were more than fifty 
thousand German soldiers, hardly a mile and a half 
away. At this the soldier had laughed, declaring that 
such a thing was utterly impossible. The old man 
then explained all about the arrival of the Germans 
and how they had come to the castle and had taken 
possession of his quarters. This, with the sincerity 
of his manner, finally persuaded the soldier that it 
was the truth. He asked the caretaker to come witli 
him to see his officer, to which he had gladly assented. 
The interview lasted a long while, as he gave all the 
information he had and answered many questions. 
The news was passed on to some French soldiers that 
had arrived from Paris during the night. 

The caretaker was directed to return to his pheas- 
antry at once and to bar his doors and make himself 
as safe as he could. He was also warned not to ven- 
ture out till they came to release him. The night on 
which this happened was the one which I have spoken 
of in telling of the terrific bombardment. 

So the caretaker returned and locked himself up. 
The frightful din that arose seemed to shake the earth 
and caused the place in which they were to sway so 
that they felt as if they were being rocked in a boat 
in a heavy sea. His wife held on to him, beside her- 



THE COLONEL IS CAPTURED 171 

seH with terror. They had been compelled to stay in 
the pheasantry for a couple of days. 

Some English soldiers, remembering that he was 
there, came over and told him he might come out. 
By this time the chateau was in the hands of the 
French and English, the former being in by far the 
greater number. He was questioned by these officers 
and gave them all the information he could. 

As he had come up to the house the sight that met 
his eyes was a heart-rending one. In the brief time 
the Germans had held the place they had thrown out 
ievery bit of valuable furniture, which they had piled 
up and set on fire. Within the house every mirror 
was shattered. The glassware was smashed up, cov- 
ering the floors, curtains had been pulled down and 
torn to pieces. Everywhere also there were signs that 
a drunken orgy had occurred. It was such a scene 
of pillage and destruction that for days it had sick- 
ened him. He had gone to work to try and restore a 
little order to the place, and save a few things that 
had not been irretrievably destroyed. In spite of his 
toil, however, the place still was in the most terrible 
condition. 



CHAPTER XIII 

IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 

During the course of our talk with the caretaker 
and several others I was impressed by the fact that 
the aviators had rendered marvellous service in help- 
ing to bring about the defeat of the Huns. Back to 
Paris, when the fifty thousand Germans had come 
near, they had flown and spread the news, giving the 
enemy's exact locations and enabling the mass of 
recruits that had been in training to be sent forward 
immediately to the places most in need of their assist- 
ance. When the German aviators saw these rein- 
forcements coming they doubtless thought it was a 
great army being sent against them, and this proved 
an important factor in their retreat, for they outnum- 
bered greatly the force hurled against them. 

The strong drink everywhere pilfered by the Huns 
surely contributed also to their undoing. They had 
been engaged in monstrous orgies to celebrate their 
forthcoming entrance into Paris, since they were abso- 
lutely persuaded that this was only a matter of a few 
days. From all that I heard and as a result of my 
own observation here and elsewhere I know that an 

172 



IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 173 

appalling number of the Germans must have been 
besotted and helpless with drink, a commentary upon 
the famed and wonderful discipline of the Kaiser's 
troops. Their officers were unable to stop these orgies 
and, as a matter of fact, a large number of them were 
in just as beastly a condition as their soldiers. Lest 
this may be disbelieved I firmly assert that drunken 
officers of the German army were then and later on a 
common sight to me. This, undoubtedly, also had a 
good deal to do with bringing success to the wonder- 
ful little army of France. 

I asked the caretaker whether he had picked up any 
relics or souvenirs of the great combat, but he told 
me he had been altogether too busy with other matters 
to permit of his hunting for such things, after the re- 
pulse, and that while fifty thousand Germans had been 
about him the occupation of a collector would have 
been altogether an unhealthy one. 

"But we have plenty of souvenirs in this place," 
he told me, pointing with his finger, "and we would 
spare them willingly. In that little garden of mine 
there are between two hundred and two hundred and 
fifty of those Germans buried. But if you want sou- 
venirs you only need take a walk over the fields. You 
can pick up all you want in a minute." 

Freddie and I were becoming thirsty and we could 
not obtain a drink of water, for the Huns, in pursu- 
ance of their civilized mode of warfare, had poisoned 



174 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

all the wells on departing. We bade the man good- 
bye and turned about, going a little distance down the 
road on a general tour of investigation. The sights 
that met us can never be forgotten as long as we live. 
Near the chateau, in the main avenue, were the huge 
piles of half consumed wreckage of the furniture 
wantonly set ablaze by these Vandals. Further on, 
in the fields, along hedges and fences, at the side of 
the highways, the ground was strewn with German 
bodies. Evidence of their besotted condition was as 
clear as daylight. Some of them had no boots on, 
others were but half clad, while some were practically 
naked. They could have offered little resistance to 
the gallant young troops that swept over them in their 
dash towards the scene of the heaviest fighting. It 
was a ghastly and sickening spectacle. 

We proceeded a little farther on and were rather 
surprised to see eight people coming towards us and 
leading or driving some horses and carts. They had 
come for the sad purpose of disinterring the murdered 
Mayor and giving him decent burial at Senlis. I 
chanced to be acquainted with one of these men, who 
happened to have heard all about our trips to Paris 
and the work I had been able to do for the poor vil- 
lagers about Gouvieux and Chantilly. He was very 
pleased to introduce us to his companions, who told 
us how glad and proud they felt that we had suc- 
ceeded in accomplishing so much. 



IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 175 

"If you had been in Senlis," said one of them, "our 
poor town might perhaps have been also saved." 

I explained that we had been greatly aided by the 
fact that the oiEcer in charge of our district had been 
a good acquaintance of mine before the war, and that 
this accounted for the fact that our villages had 
escaped the destruction practised wholesale all 
around us. 

Leaving these people we started back for Chantilly 
and home. Passing through St. Leonard we met a 
party of six German soldiers who had made their 
escape from troops and searching parties. They 
asked us where we were going, with a mildness of 
manner accounted for by the fact that they no longer 
deemed themselves conquering heroes. They asked 
us where we were going and I informed them that we 
were bound for Chantilly. 

"Oh, we know that place! Will you show us the 
way?" ^ 

We gave them the necessary directions. These 
fellows had thrown away their guns. Nor do I be- 
lieve that they had even retained their revolvers. A 
sick and weary-looking squad they were, to be sure. 

Freddie and I kept on towards Gouvieux, and as 
soon as we reached it we went to the Mairie and de- 
scribed our trip and the terrible sights we had wit- 
nessed, endeavouring to explain how matters stood 
with the poor people in the sections that had been on 



176 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

the main lines of battle. The men we spoke to were 
utterly appalled by all that we told them, yet I hardly 
believe they could have realized the extent of the de- 
struction and the fierceness of the conflict without 
seeing, as we had, the aftermath of all those horrors. 

When we returned home we found that my wife was 
terribly excited, having begun to believe that we 
should never return. She knew, of course, that we 
had only meant to cover a few miles, and could not 
account for our long absence. I sought to say very 
little about our experiences and especially about the 
narrow shave of the morning, but Freddie was too 
much of a boy to keep still very long. When his 
mother and sister heard about it they were nearly 
distracted. My wife looked reproachfully at me, and 
told the boy that I was utterly hopeless and would 
probably keep on taking chances till I was killed. At 
last she became calmer and expressed her thankful- 
ness that the frightful destruction had stopped short 
of our poor little villages. Much as we had suff'ered 
we certainly had dwelt in an oasis, compared with the 
desolation of our surroundings. 

On the following morning we could still hear the 
distant and continuous roar of guns by the hundreds 
and thousands. So used to it were we, by this time, 
that now and then we no longer noticed it. I dis- 
covered that my boy had made arrangements to accom- 
pany another boy friend of his as far as the quarries, 



IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 177 

where they thought they might obtain a view of the 
great battle with the aid of field-glasses. 

Fortunately Freddie asked his mother's permission, 
which she promptly and firmly refused. He was not 
quite satisfied with this and made up his mind to 
come and ask me. Immediately I put my foot down 
hard and forbade him to go any further away than 
the church. 

About an hour later my wife cried out to me as I 
was going up the street. 

"See what you have done by allowing Freddie to go 
off with that boy," she sobbed. "They tell me that a 
young lad has been shot on the road to Chomour!" 

She was beside herself with grief, feeling perfectly 
certain that our son had been the victim. I denied 
that I had given my permission for him to go, and 
naturally felt very anxious at this news. A few min- 
utes later, however, I was surprised and delighted to 
see Freddie coming around the church and leading a 
pony harnessed to a small covered cart. We found 
out that its occupants had left early in the day, going 
in the direction of St. Maximin, and that they had 
been held up suddenly by Germans and forced to 
stop. Four of these poor people had been in the 
cart. One of them was a boy of about seventeen and 
the others were his mother and sister and an old 
grandmother. Such a helpless lot must have offered 
a great temptation indeed to the Huns. The brutes 



178 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

lined up the poor trembling victims and shot them. 
The boy was killed instantly, with his sister and 
mother. The old woman was left lying in a pool of 
blood beside the others, severely wounded. Of a 
similar nature were uncountable doughty deeds of 
arms tending to show the Kultur of the Kaiser's 
mighty warriors. 

The dead were taken away and the old woman sent 
off to a hospital. On the very next day a second 
outrage occurred. 

A man who lived not far from my house owned a 
small cottage at St. Maximin but had been stopping 
with his daughter, who was married and whose hus- 
band was away at the front. He decided to take his 
horse and cart and go over to see what condition his 
cottage was in. When he was at the entrance of the 
village he noticed a body lying on the road, where- 
upon he got out of the cart and looked at the victim. 
He was quite unable to recognize him, only being able 
to see that it was a very young boy. The boots and 
everything else the little fellow wore had been 
stripped from him. The man went as far as his 
gate and looked at his cottage, returning as fast as 
possible. When he came to the body again he could 
not bear to see the poor little nude thing thus exposed 
and covered it over with dead leaves. As soon as he 
reached Gouvieux he came to me and reported the 
occurrence, whereupon I hurried over to the Mairie 



IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 179 

and related what he had told me. As soon as we 
could we procured a horse and cart, in which we 
placed the body and brought it back with us. We 
brought it back to the Mairie, but it had been so 
abused that there was no means of identifying it. We 
sent word to the mother of the boy who had been 
around to our house that morning, asking her whether 
her boy had gone off to see the firing by himself. 
Freddie, we knew, was at home, and we feared the 
other lad had ventured off alone. We could not be 
sure, but were fearing that the poor little fellow 
might be her son. When she first arrived at the 
Mairie, frantic with anxiety, she was at first unable 
to identify the child. When she lifted up the left 
hand, however, she knew that the worst had hap- 
pened. Some years previously the boy had lost a 
little finger. 

To make very sure of their task the murdering 
Huns had shot him twice and stabbed him three times 
with their bayonets. Yes, it must be admitted that 
they are thorough when a dastardly crime is to be 
committed. The men had taken away the bicycle 
and every shred of his clothing, for purposes best 
known to themselves, since the latter at least could 
have been of no use to them. An inborn instinct for 
pillage and rapine, however, causes men to do strange 
things. 

I need not describe his mother's terrible grief; 



180 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

words are poor things at best, in such circumstances. 
The poor soul's husband was at the front, somewhere 
on the other side of Compiegne and Soissons, and the 
boy had been tremendously eager to go off and find 
his father. He had many a time expressed this inten- 
tion, and his mother had begged him not to try, but 
he kept on repeating that he wanted to go off and get 
news from his father. 

On the next morning I went over to Chantilly with 
Freddie, whose mother had finally succumbed to his 
repeated requests, allowing him at last to start off with 
me again. To tell the truth the boy's spirit is per- 
haps even more venturesome than mine. He was 
strongly affected in the presence of frightful sights or 
terrible and imminent danger, but his ambition to 
fare afield and investigate was as great as ever as 
soon as the peril had passed. 

We took a little lunch with us and went as far as 
Chamorit. Passing through the wreckage of this 
place we looked over the fields on either side of the 
road, not daring, however, to venture out into the 
woods. All the cultivated land, that had been giving 
promise of fine crops of grains and vegetables, was 
utterly ploughed up by shell-fire. Everything grow- 
ing in them had been absolutely destroyed. The fine 
great trees of the woods and copses were torn down 
in swaths, mown down by the terrific storm of steel, or 
stood up with shattered limbs and leafless branches. 



IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 181 

By the roadside and among the fields the heavily- 
laden fruit trees had for the greater part been blown 
to pieces, and were destined never to bear again. 

Riding bicycles along this road began to prove a 
rather dangerous amusement, since the highway was 
also everywhere torn up into great shell-holes and 
mounds of stones and dirt. As a matter of fact we 
had our tires punctured twice and had to stop in order 
to repair them, causing us considerable delay. In 
the fields of battle we collected a few weapons and 
other things to bring home with us. Indeed it was no 
trouble to find such things, for they strewed the fields 
and roads. Many parties of French soldiers were 
hard at work, burying what seemed like innumerable 
dead. The casualties must have been small on our 
side in this battle, for there were very few French uni- 
forms among the bodies. The vast majority were 
Germans. It may be, however, that the poor "poilus" 
had been accorded burial first. Still, the soldiers, 
when we spoke to them, confirmed our impression. 

Not far from the Grand Chateau we saw about fif- 
teen British soldiers who had been killed and were 
being buried in the grounds at the upper end of the 
chateau. 

We continued on our journey, passing to the right 
of Senlis, where the military barracks formerly were. 
Hardly a trace of them was left, for they had been 
blown into atoms, together with ten or fifteen adjoin- 



182 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

ing houses. This part of the town had been subjected 
to the first and most violent bombardment, as the 
Germans thought that troops might be there. About 
the place some splendid old trees had been cut down, 
for all the world as if they had been felled with axes, 
but for the frightful splintering of the trunks. 

After we had looked over these places we went 
across some fields to a place where there had formerly 
been a large farm house. It was a terrible picture 
of destruction, and the bodies of Germans were lying 
in heaps around it. 

We had known the place very well, and picked up 
a few flowers that had escaped destruction, to take 
home. There was no great difficulty in doing this, 
with the exception that many times we were compelled 
to dismount and carry our wheels, as there was a 
great number of dead horses lying on the road. 
These animals had belonged to the German cavalry 
and artillery. 

This time we had incurred no particular danger 
and Freddie had no tale of personal danger with 
which to harrow his mother's feelings, most fortu- 
nately. She told me at once that they had been 
inquiring for me from Chantilly and from the 
Mairie at Gouvieux. I was desired to ride over to 
Paris on the next day, in order to take letters and 
messages and bring back such mail as there might 
be for our villages. I had not made this trip for 



IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM 183 

several days owing to the battle that had been raging 
at Chamont. 

By this time we knew that the journey would pro- 
vide us with no especial excitement, in all probabili- 
ties, the Germans having been pushed back and the 
few stragglers being more desirous of surrendering 
than of making further trouble, saving for a little 
stray pillaging and a bit of murdering here and there. 
Nothing, I have concluded, can afford more consola- 
tion and comfort to a Hun suffering from home-sick- 
ness. It is probable that the corpses of women and 
children turn his longing thoughts to his beloved ones 
at home. 

The trip was quite uneventful and we reached St. 
Denis in excellent time. The constant riding had 
made us into cyclists of sorts, I presume, and the ride 
was but gentle exercise, at this period. We attended 
to our usual jobs, saving that we had no longer to 
convert ourselves into beasts of burden in order to 
provide the Huns with the wherewithal for smoking. 
Instead of this we carried back, besides the mail, all 
the provisions we could pack on our wheels, since 
nothing whatever in the way of groceries and such 
things could be found near home. 



CHAPTER XIV 



MORE "kULTUR" 



In the morning we packed up our bundles for the 
return journey, carrying a voluminous mail and all 
the provisions we could manage to take along. We 
had been able to get only about a dozen newspapers 
and I must say I thanked my stars that they were not 
of the size my American friends are accustomed to 
struggle with in the Sunday editions of their favourite 
journals. Had this been the case we would have 
been forced to cancel our liberal orders for papers 
and return empty handed in the way of printed news. 
In France the dailies commonly consist of a couple 
of sheets. During the war some have issued but a 
single one, so that the average American paper looks 
like some sort of encyclopaedia in comparison. 

When we arrived in Lamorlaye we were alarmed to 
hear that there had been a number of German aero- 
planes above our little village. This made me most 
anxious to get home as soon as possible. We deliv- 
ered our mail very hurriedly and were soon on our 
way home, riding as fast as we could so that we 
reached the house quite exhausted and worn out. 

184 



MORE "KULTUR'^ 185 

Our people were delighted as usual to see us back, 
and welcomed my nephew, who had ridden over from 
Paris with us. 

There had been any amount of excitement in Gou- 
vieux, owing to the fact that several bombs had been 
dropped at one end of our paddocks, close to the 
church. My wife told us that she had been dread- 
fully alarmed during the night, as the aeroplanes 
had passed right over their heads. These particular 
machines, I afterwards heard, were prevented from 
going on to Paris by the splendid work of the French 
aviators and the anti-aircraft guns. 

On the day following we decided to go off on a 
trip as far as Campion in order to see the havoc there. 
We went first to Senlis, as Bob Peacock, my nephew, 
was very anxious to see the place and witness the 
devastation that had occurred there at the hands of the 
Huns. We had a good look over the place and then 
went on to Chamont, where we had a short rest, after 
which we rode off on the road to Campion. We had 
not gone more than five or six miles when one of our 
wheels broke down. Fortunately, however, we were 
able to attend to the necessary repairs ourselves. 

As we were working away a man came along, who 
turned out to be an Englishman who had just ridden 
over from Campion. He asked if it would be pos- 
sible for him to obtain something to eat and drink in 
Senlis, telling us that he had not had a morsel since 



186 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

leaving the other side of Campion, where he said that 
a good many of the enemy were still in the neighbour- 
hood. He informed us that he had been hard put to 
it to make his escape from there. The poor man 
looked completely tired out and exhausted. I man^ 
aged to procure a piece of bread and a small bottle 
of white wine, from a friend of mine in the vicinity, 
and gave him most of it. He wanted to know whether 
there was any chance of his being able to get to Paris 
without riding his bicycle all the way there, and I 
had to inform him that it was quite out of the ques- 
tion. After reaching Chantilly he could pass through 
Souville, about fifteen miles further, and perhaps get 
a train from there. I had heard that they had begun 
again to run as far as this place. He went along 
with us as far as Chantilly, but by this time he was 
so utterly worn out that he could go no further. I 
went to an old caretaker and explained the case. The 
Englishman said that he would be only too glad to 
pay anything if he could secure a place in which to 
sleep and get a little food. Everything was arranged 
satisfactorily, the caretaker telling him that he would 
have to put up with such food as they had been com- 
pelled to live on and the stranger was only too glad to 
avail himself of this offer. He was obliged to re- 
main there for three days, at the expiration of which 
the trains began to come again, at the rate of only one 
a day, as far as Chantilly. 



MORE ^^KULTUR'^ 187 

Before this man left he exhibited to us three Ger- 
man knives which he had found in a doorway of a 
house in which several old people had been slaugh- 
tered by the Huns. One woman, he told us, had been 
hung with ropes outside the door, after having been 
stabbed. These knives had been left sticking in the 
door. But I cannot attempt to relate a hundredth 
part of the atrocities that had been committed in his 
neighbourhood. Again I may say that I wish I could, 
but these things would not be printed, since there are 
few people who have the courage and the will to know 
all of the terrible truth. 

We returned to our house, heart-sore and weary, 
and planned to spend the next day quietly at home. 
We were being surfeited with frightfulness and glad 
of a little rest. Besides, there were numberless 
things requiring my attention at home and any amount 
of personal business I had been sadly neglecting. 
The task of straightening things up in the kennels had 
grown into a huge one, for my poor animals, perforce, 
had not obtained much of the care they required. 
Their condition urgently needed my attention. 

I worked at this and other things very hard and was 
busily engaged in finishing up some odds and ends 
when, to my surprise, an Englishman came to the 
door, asking if there was any one who could speak 
English. The sign of "English and American Ken- 
nels" over my door had led him to make this enquiry. 



188 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

As I opened the door I had swiftly noticed that he had 
a German horse outside, which gave me little inclina- 
tion to trust him implicitly. It rather looked to me 
as if he might perhaps be a German trying to parade 
as an Englishman. But he explained this circum- 
stance satisfactorily, saying that he had ridden this 
horse for a considerable distance, in the company of 
a Frenchman, and that he had hurried over to our 
place for assistance. They had come across six Ger- 
mans who had entered a house and had attacked the 
inmates. The Frenchman had gone directly over to 
the Mairie to report and, returning, stopped at my 
door for the English soldier. It chanced that two 
English and two French soldiers who had become sepa- 
rated from their commands and become lost had met 
on the railroad line. They had travelled along the 
tracks until at last they reached a freight junction and 
a bridge which one of the Frenchmen happened to rec- 
ognize. He told his companions that he knew where 
he was now. They had climbed up the embankment 
from which they had reached the main road, over 
which they hurried to endeavour to join their regi- 
ments again. Coming to a small cafe by the roadside 
which their guide happened to know, they saw outside 
the place six horses whose trappings showed that they 
belonged to Uhlans. They crept up to the house, the 
Englishman hurrying ahead and peeping through the 
window. He was horrified and hastened back to in- 



MORE "KULTUR^' 189 

form his companions of what he had seen. Immedi- 
ately they had turned the horses loose into the woods. 
The two French soldiers stood on guard at the front 
door while one of the Englishmen watched at the win- 
dow and the remaining one went to the back door, 
which he pushed in, entering the place. At his ap- 
pearance the Germans had shouted: "The English!" 
The soldier rushed at them, felling one of them with 
the butt of his rifle and attacking the rest of them 
till four of them were sprawling on the floor. The 
fifth one had drawn a revolver to shoot him, but the 
Englishman watching at the window had been too 
quick for him, firing at once and killing the Hun and 
the last one remaining on his feet. 

The French and English soldiers had entered the 
cafe, when this battle was 03^er, and shuddered at the 
terrible sight before their eyes. There was an old 
grandfather who was pinned with a bayonet to the 
floor and was still breathing. The old grandmother 
had been stabbed three times, also with bayonets. 
Upon the table, bound with ropes that had cut deep 
into her flesh, the granddaughter had been fastened. 
The mother had been tied in the same way to a chair, 
and both these unfortunate creatures had been 
stripped of their clothing. 

The rescuers had lost no time in releasing the poor 
distracted creatures and then had hurried over to Gou- 
vieux to inform us. We immediately made horses 



190 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 



and carts ready and hastened over to the cafe in order 
to bring relief to the sufferers and take care of the 
dead. When we got there the old man had breathed 
his last. The grandmother expired on the way. The 
mother and daughter, as soon as it could be managed, 
were taken over to a hospital where they had to 
remain for a long time. 

These things I have seen with my own eyes, but I 
know that such unspeakable atrocities were the com- 
monest of occurrences, having taken place all over the 
invaded countries. I cannot tell my readers, nor will 
any pen ever attempt to describe, the fiendish cruelty 
and savagery of the barbarous treatment the Huns 
everywhere indulged in towards women and young 
girls. Poor creatures of thirteen and fourteen, often 
hardly grown out of childhood, were brutally mis- 
treated by the hundreds and hundreds. At first these 
reports had sounded so horribly that I had refused 
to believe them, putting down these statements to the 
excited terror of the refugees. I was soon destined 
actually to witness such cases so that the truth was 
absolutely forced upon me until I fully understood the 
brutish nature of the outrages they committed far and 
wide. It had been hard to realize that anywhere on 
earth people lived who could stain their hands with 
such frightfulness, but it was unfortunately but a 
short time before no room was left for doubt. 

Two or three days later the train service was ex- 



MORE ^^KULTUR'^ 191 

tended from Paris to Chantilly, so that I was able to 
journey to the capital by train and bring letters back 
and forth with no more trouble. Also I managed to 
bring a goodly amount of provisions and a little lug- 
gage. At about this time the people who had fled 
from our villages began to return to their homes. 

On one occasion I happened to go over to Lamor- 
laye on my bicycle to have a look at the horses in the 
paddocks. I met several hundred people who were 
making their way back to their various homes. They 
struggled back in a steady stream. As a rule they did 
not appear to be as sad and depressed as when they 
had fled before the invasion. As a matter of fact 
most of them had managed to obtain a better fare than 
fell to the lot of our remaining villagers, and to live 
in places where they were sheltered from the constant 
menace under which we had been existing. Many 
were desolate enough, however, for some came back 
to find that their homes were in ruins and their fields 
devastated. 

Getting through to Paris was no very easy matter 
in those days, the trains travelling very slowly and 
being badly crowded, especially on the return trip. 
People had to procure special passes in order to secure 
transportation but as Freddie and I already possessed 
them we were not troubled with these formalities. 
The government had to be very strict in regard to the 
use of these trains, for there were thousands of eager 



192 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

people who would have journeyed upon them to sat- 
isfy their curiosity, had they been allowed to do so. 
This would have crowded out many of those who had 
urgent need to travel over the line, and the authorities 
acted wisely. 

On the following morning Freddie and my nephew 
and I took another ride as far as Senlis, to see how 
the returned refugees were faring. No sooner did 
we reach the town than we became deeply conscious 
of the frightful misery that existed among them. 
Women and children and old men were standing 
among the ruins, some dry-eyed and staring before 
them as the demented sometimes do, others weeping 
and bewailing the destruction of all that they had 
ever possessed. Among them were people so stag- 
gered with their losses that they were unable to move, 
while many others, on the contrary, were earnestly at 
work digging away at shapeless heaps of ruins, hop- 
ing to find some little thing of value, even though ever 
so slight. 

The autumn was at hand, at best a damp and rainy 
season in the north of France, but in spite of wet and 
cold these poor people had to sleep out of doors, per- 
haps sheltered by a bit of wall still standing. A 
few were lucky to find room in cellars they managed 
to enter. Indeed they suffered grievously for a long 
time, until some sort of provision could be made for 
their accommodation. The supply of food, naturally. 



Le present GARNET a 6te ddhr^ i; 

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PrBnums : „_ !2i 




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PIKST PAGE OF CARNET ISSUED TO EKED MITCHELL 

BY THE FRENCH GOVERNMENT, GRANTING HIM 

PERMISSION TO TRAVEL IN THE WAR ZONE 



MORE "KULTUR^^ 193 

was more than scanty. How most of them did not 
starve I can hardly explain, saving perhaps by the 
resourcefulness and courage under hardship that is 
ingrained in the French people. 

When we returned home that evening we were de- 
lighted to hear that the French General Staff was ex- 
pected to come to the Hotel Conde in Chantilly, where 
it was to make its headquarters. This was a most 
important matter for us all, for we knew that now 
we would be entirely protected by the soldiers that 
would necessarily be attached to the high command 
in large nunibers. 

Former residents of Gouvieux, Chantilly and Lam- 
orlaye were beginning to flock back to their homes 
and we were called upon to do a great deal of work 
in the way of rendering them assistance in the re- 
covery of all the valuables that had been buried a 
number of weeks before. They were amazed that 
these villages had escaped the general destruction, and 
were inclined to give me perhaps more credit than I 
deserved in saving them. At any rate it was grati- 
fying indeed to see that they felt so kindly towards 
me and that I had won their hearts to so great an 
extent. Practically everything that had been buried 
was found, and generally in good condition. They 
had felt certain that these things would be lost, and 
now it did one's heart good to see how hard they 
toiled to put things in order and restore former con- 



194 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

ditions. They constantly kept coming to me and ask- 
ing me to tell them about my journeys, and how we 
had fared while the Germans were among us, but I 
was altogether too busy to tell them much. The try- 
ing days through which we had passed were often 
painful for me to recall, at that time, and I cared little- 
to go over them again and again. 

Every minute that I could spare was devoted to 
looking after my dogs and taking them out for exer- 
cise, which they needed ever so badly for many of 
them were in poor condition through under-feeding 
and forced neglect. Very soon a number of the val- 
uable horses that had been taken away in the prov- 
inces were brought back. Things about us began to 
resume a more normal appearance and every one 
looked more hopeful and bright. In the far dis- 
tance we could still hear the roar of the cannons, so 
that we were always kept mindful of the fact that the 
fighting was going on. That was impossible to forget. 



CHAPTER XV 

A PRISONER AGAIN 

We very soon took another trip to Paris, where we 
indulged ourselves to the extent of going to see mov- 
ing pictures. Freddie and I returned, loaded as us- 
ual with provisions and other things. On our way 
home the boy began to speak about a beautiful sword 
that had been brought back from close to the front 
lines, by a gentleman we had met and who treasured 
it as a souvenir. 

"Dad," he suddenly told me, "why shouldn't we 
go over in the direction of Compiegne and see if we 
can't pick up something like that?" 

"I'm afraid we might run into danger again," I 
told him, "and I'm sure your mother won't approve 
of our going." 

"But I would dearly like one of those swords," he 
persisted. 

"We might get one in an unpleasant way," I an- 
swered. 

"Then you won't go. Dad?" he asked, regretfully. 

''I'm afraid it might be too dangerous," I replied. 



196 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 



"But weVe been through such a lot of danger to- 
gether, Dad. Nothing worse can ever happen to us." 

"Well, I'll see what your mother says about it," 
I told him, and tried to change the conversation. 
This, however, did not quite suit him and he spoke 
again of how interesting it would be to see the battle- 
fields further away than we had ever been, and of 
how many beautiful things must be lying there wait- 
ing to be picked up. 

The more I thought over the matter the more Fred- 
die's idea appealed to me. I was not particularly 
keen about picking up more Boche trophies, for we 
already had a good many of them lying about the 
house, but the prospect of seeing more of the battle- 
fields and of the invaded country appealed to me irre- 
sistibly. That evening at supper I told my wife that I 
was thinking of going in the direction of Compi^gne 
and Soissons to investigate some matters. Freddie 
immediately jumped at this cue and began begging 
me to take him and imploring his mother to allow him 
to go. 

She answered that he had roved about the country 
a good deal during the last couple of months, and 
told him that he should remain home and look after 
the dogs. I began to pack up my things and Freddie 
helped me, looking very gloomy indeed. 

I had to go to the Mairie for the passport that was 
always required for any trip about the country, and 



A PRISONER AGAIN 197 

while I was there my wife asked Freddie why he was 
looking so unhappy. 

He replied that it was quite wrong of her to allow 
me to go by myself, because if anything happened 
to me no one would ever know anything about it. Her 
reply, naturally, was to the effect that if something 
happened to both of us she would be no better in- 
formed, but finally, seeing how disappointed the boy 
was, she told him that he might as well get ready and 

go- 
In the meanwhile, thinking that matters would 

probably arrange themselves in that way, I procured 

passports as far as Compiegne for the two of us I 

was joking a little with the old secretary, and telling 

him about my son's wish to go. 

"I think as he does," said the secretary. "If you 
had been meant to be killed you would have been 
done for long ago. Be very careful." 

Returning to the house I found Freddie beaming. 
He had his bicycle ready and his sandwiches and 
other provisions packed away. We said good-bye to 
my wife and daughter and started, riding briskly 
away on a sunshiny cool day. We went through 
Chantilly to Senlis, where the guard at the bridge, 
who happened to know me, never looked at our pass- 
ports but asked us if we were going out to look for 
more trouble. At this I laughed, little thinking 
that the trouble was really coming. 



198 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

We stopped for something to eat at Chamont, after 
which we rode through a number of villages. Most 
of these had been blown to pieces, though occasion- 
ally a few houses would be standing, on one side or 
other of the main street. Most of these, however, had 
been on fire, and invariably the contents had been 
looted or at least thrown out into the street or yards. 
Finally we reached the beginning of the large forest 
of Compiegne. Our way from Chamont had led us 
through fields that were devastated, while the road 
had constantly been torn up into shell-holes, com- 
pelling us often to jump off our wheels and walk at 
the side of the highway, or even in the ditches. A 
great part of the beginning forest was composed of 
nothing but fire-blackened trees. 

At a half -wrecked place that had been a cafe we 
stopped for water and ate some of the food we had 
brought with us. It was kept by an old man with a 
withered arm, who warned us to be very careful as 
he believed there were a lot of Germans farther on 
in the woods. As we were talking two men appeared 
on the road, coming towards us. 

"There's a couple of them," the old man called to 
me. 

But on looking more carefully I discovered that 
they were two English soldiers who had lost their 
way and were wandering about, trying to discover 
some one who could understand and direct them. 



A PRISONER AGAIN 199 

Their feet were so dreadfully blistered and sore that 
they were walking barefooted. They carried their 
coats and shoes and stockings on their arms and 
walked at the side of the road, where occasional 
patches of grass gave them easier footing. 

Thinking that again they would not be understood, 
they made signs that they wanted water to drink. 

"Are you English?" I asked. 

The expression of their sun-browned faces, caked 
with dust and worn with suffering, changed at once. 
They were so happy to be addressed in their own 
tongue that they could only stammer that they were, 
at first. As soon as I explained to the old man that 
they were English he leaped towards them and ac- 
tually kissed their hands. 

"Ce5 braves Anglais F^ he cried, running back 
into the house and bringing out food and some won- 
derful brand of beer which he said he had made him- 
self. 

The poor lads fell hungrily upon this food. They 
had been lost in the forest for three days and nights, 
making every effort to find their way back towards 
their commands. As soon as they had eaten the old 
man went and got them water so that they might 
wash their feet and told them that they must remain 
in the house with him until they could walk again 
without pain. 

During a night attack, they told me, they had been 



200 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

cut off by the enemy, who had killed two other Eng- 
lish soldiers who had been with them. They had re- 
mained in hiding in the forest for a long time, till 
they thought it safe to try to return within their own 
lines. But they had become utterly lost and had a 
terrible time until we saw them. 

We had to go on and therefore bade them good-bye 
and good luck, glad indeed that the poor chaps had 
found a refuge where they would be well taken care 
of. We went straight on and passed through the lit- 
tle town of Compiegne. There seemed to have been 
no incendiarism there, the only damage in the pretty 
old town being due to huge long distance shells that 
had exploded in some of the streets and buildings. 
We rode out of the town, finding the roads terribly 
torn up and went on for perhaps ten miles, till we 
reached the village of Herein where we had some min- 
eral water to drink. An old woman told us that we 
should turn back, saying that there were Prussians not 
far off. I told Freddie that it was more than time for 
us to return but he begged to go on a little further, 
probably eager to keep an eye open for lost swords 
or other weapons. We went on for about a couple 
of miles, coming to a little growth of dark firs. Sud- 
denly the harsh order to halt, which we had been so 
accustomed to but a few weeks before, sounded loudly 
and most unpleasantly in our ears. Eight of the 
Huns, armed with guns and revolvers, asked us where 



A PRISONER AGAIN 201 

we were going. We answered that we had meant to 
go but a very little farther and then return to Com- 
piegne. 

I felt that we were in a terrible predicament. 
These men were snarling and swearing at us furi- 
ously. Hatred, desire for revenge, the beastly blood- 
lust of brutes to whom killing has become an outlet 
for all their passions, were clearly depicted on their 
faces and in their manner. 

"Yes, you shall certainly go farther on," one of 
them roared out. 

They ordered us to follow them. One showed the 
way and the others brought up the rear, with guns 
and pistols threatening. We had to push our bicycles 
along. This lasted until they had taken us three 
or four miles away, over the roughest roads. We 
reached some quarries, near which were seven or eight 
tents. Our wheels were taken from us and we were 
ordered to go into one of these tents. Our progress 
had been frequently accelerated by blows from the 
butts of their guns, while bayonets were held so close 
to us that there was no inclination on our part ever to 
tarry. Once within the tent we were informed that 
we should have to wait in there until they had gone 
for an officer, and that we should be shot the moment 
we stepped out of it. 

For two or three hours we remained there, soldiers 
at times putting their heads in to look at us and call 



202 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

US pigs or any other insulting name they could think 
of, and shaking their fists at us. 

Things looked so very black that, very naturally, I 
decided that I would probably be killed. Thinking 
they might possibly spare my boy a little longer, I 
urged him, speaking very low or whispering, to pay 
no attention whatever to me. I made him promise 
that if he could see a chance to save himself he would 
seize it immediately. Knowing that he would prob- 
ably be taken off and questioned apart from me I 
told him that we must relate all that we had done for 
the Germans in Gouvieux; how we had brought them 
tobacco and cigarettes and newspapers, and how we 
had mailed letters for them. 

After a long wait a man came, probably a sergeant, 
as far as I could make out from his uniform. He 
was as rough and uncouth as the others, and told us 
that we should have to remain all night in the tent 
as the officer who was to question us would not be there 
before morning. 

After he had left us to our own uncomfortable de- 
vices we were thrown a couple of pieces of bread. It 
had probably been made over a ramrod or bayonet 
by running the latter into a lump of dough and hold- 
ing it over the fire. At any rate there was a long 
hole in each piece. When we finally broke them the 
interior seemed to contain a mouldy dust of evil 
odour. We were also each handed a rusty preserve 



A PRISONER AGAIN 203 

tin containing water also highly scented, probably 
from their former contents that had been allowed to 
become putrid. Our bicycles, fortunately, had been 
placed inside the tent, though the valves of the tires 
had been removed so that the machines could not be 
used. In our bags we found a small remnant of our 
lunch, which we ate, for at this time we were utterly 
unable to stomach the bread we had been thrown. 

There was no such thing as sleep for us. We sat 
close together and I think that my boy managed to 
have a wink now and then, although he was certainly 
wakeful most of the time. Often when I thought he 
slept I found that he was only huddled against me 
and ready to whisper some of the fears which obsessed 
him. Mine were bad enough, in all conscience, and 
my heart bled for the poor lad. Finally the morning 
broke. We were chilled through, naturally, for we 
had no covering and upon the ground there was but 
a thin layer of recently cut grass. 

A couple of men came in and took our bicycles out 
to the entrance of an old quarry and made us follow 
them there. They made us repair the tires, which 
had been punctured, and put the valves back in the 
tires. As soon as this was finished I was taken back 
to the tent where they placed a chain on my left leg 
and fastened it to the tent pole. 

"We'll show you what we're going to do to all our 
English prisoners," one of them snarled at me. 



204 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 
"We'll treat them worse than dogs, as they de- 



serve." 



He left me there, feeling terribly anxious at being 
separated from my son. I was brought a piece of 
the same kind of bread we had received on the pre- 
vious evening. I thought it would be wise for me to 
try and eat as much of it as I could, fearing that I 
would become so weak that I would be unable to 
stand any exertion or suffering if I became too hun- 
gry. It was hard work, however. 

During the day I was not much troubled by them, 
saving for the pleasure they took in throwing an occa- 
sional stone or old brickbat at me to see me dodge. 
I could see that they were anxious that I should get 
angry. It would have given them the excuse they 
wanted to really injure or kill me, and I remained 
silent. 

Towards dusk, to my inexpressible relief, Freddie 
was brought back to me, and I was glad indeed to find 
that he had not been hurt. They had compelled him 
to ride his bicycle perhaps one or two hundred yards 
ahead of a soldier who rode mine, pointing at a 
spot he must stop at. He obeyed and dismounted, 
when the soldier overtook him and looked about him, 
carefully. They then returned. I have no doubt 
they feared that some of our troops might be near 
and had sent him first that he might draw their fire. 
After this they had taken him to another place where 



A PRISONER AGAIN 205 

there were some officers and a number of other men. 
They had questioned him at great length, and had 
given him a little food rather better than bread. The 
boy was told that on the following morning he would 
be taken away. 

While he spoke he was much afraid that he would 
be overheard, and whispered very low. He told me 
that from what he had been able to make out there was 
no intention to kill us at once, and that perhaps they 
might not continue to treat me so badly. We were so 
exhausted that we managed to sleep a little, that 
night, in turns, I woke up very often, of course, as 
did Freddie, and we felt the cold severely. 

In the morning they came for us both and took off 
my chain. I was taken into a quarry and ordered 
to shovel rubbish, tin-cans, old bottles and broken 
stone to one side, where they appeared to be about 
to mount some sort of cannon or machine-gun. Fred- 
die was taken away, with both bicycles. The latter 
I never saw again. My boy was gone and again I 
was nearly distracted with fear of whatever might be 
in store for him. 

I was kept working hard until noon, my efforts 
being encouraged with blows, the throwing of stones 
and rubbish, and such diversions as pitching shovels 
and spades at me in order to see me jump. When I 
was allowed to stop I was given more of that war- 
bread and some tepid water of undescribable flavour, 



206 FRED MITCHELLS WAR STORY 

in which a few old sausage-skins appeared to be float- 
ing. Of this I am not absolutely sure, of course, for 
the exact nature of these fragments was hard indeed 
to make out. 

My repast was no lengthy one, on this occasion, and 
I had to resume my labours. Most of the men in the 
place left, an hour or two later, and I was able to take 
a little rest, now and then, when the man on guard 
chanced to be looking the other way. This fellow 
seemed rather decent; he appeared to see how ex- 
hausted I was and, I think, took some slight pains 
to turn away and give me an occasional chance to 
breathe. He took me back to the tent, in the evening, 
and I thanked him. What his nationality was I don't 
know. He did not appear to be a German. Not a 
word of French could he speak, nor more than one or 
two of English. He answered me very gruffly, saying 
something I could not understand. The chain was 
again fastened to my leg and I was left tied to my 
post. 

I watched eagerly for Freddie's return, hoping 
that he would turn up as had occurred before. It 
grew later and later, and still I kept hoping and listen- 
ing, until finally the hour was so advanced that I knew 
it was scarcely possible that they would bring him 
back. Whether he had been killed or not, of course, 
I had no means of knowing. There followed a night 
of suffering, worry and anxiety during which I could 



A PRISONER AGAIN 207 

not obtain a moment's rest or surcease. I was be- 
ginning to believe that they had made away with the 
boy and were keeping me alive simply in the hope of 
extorting information. 



CHAPTER XVI 

FREE AT LAST 

Came another morning. I was feeling rather more 
dead than alive, by this time, but I was able to rise 
from the ground, stiff with cold, when soldiers came 
in to take off my chain. Bidding me to go with them, 
they marched me off through woods and quarries for 
a distance of perhaps five hundred yards to a tum- 
bled down wooden hut that may have served as some 
sort of shed for the storing away of tools. They had 
hidden it with cut saplings and branches, so that a 
very short distance off it was practically invisible. 
Several officers were about this hovel, and one within 
it, who began to question me. 

He asked me why I had come there, and how many 
French or British soldiers I had seen on the road. To 
this I truthfully answered that I had seen none, but he 
sneered, absolutely disbelieving me. He was to the 
full as brutal and coarse as his men, in spite of his 
commanding position. He told me he didn't want 
any of my lies, and when I answered that I was not 
lying he took up some heavy object that was on the 
rough table, and threw it at me with all his strength. 

208 



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AUTOHISATION de. CIRCUl.ER,; 

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ie Pepmis tie S^joiiP dans ia Zone des Amees 



— — -^ j.-i(/- 



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des Aruiees, fist auloris«, portftur du preisent Carnet, -^ 

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I'Autorite nulitains ^^ , ; 

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PEED MITCHELL'S WAE ZONE PASSPORT 



FREE AT LAST 209 

It was done so quickly that in the dim light of the 
place I could not see what it was. Instinctively I 
dodged and the thing only glanced from my shoulder. 

"We'll make an example of you!" he swore furi- 
ously at me. "We'll teach you dirty English to come 
prying into our affairs!" 

To the papers and the Colonel's passport, which I 
showed him, he paid not the slightest attention, beyond 
glancing at them. In regard to the latter he sneered 
again. 

"Yes, we've a lot of those half-bred sympathiz- 
ing Frenchmen among Alsatians and Lorraines," he 
snarled, referring to the men of the conquered prov- 
inces who were forced to serve in the German army. 

He ordered the men to take me back and keep me 
under the strictest guard, without allowing me a 
moment's liberty. Some things he shouted to them 
in German, which I was unable to understand. The 
soldiers marched me back to the tent and fastened me 
up. Some time later the man who had treated me 
rather decently in the quarry chanced to put his head 
in the tent, and I begged him to tell me what had hap- 
pened to my son. He never answered a word and 
went on his way, causing my fears to harass me more 
strongly than ever. 

Presently a soldier came, carrying a box in which 
were pieces of bread. He took one of them and 
yelled out to me, in broken French: 



210 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

"Here, you dirty English swine, this is good enough 
for you!" 

With this he spat on the bread and tossed it at me, 
laughing. Others who were watching, through the 
open flaps of the tent, joined in his merriment. It 
was evidently a splendid joke to them. 

He went away. By this time I was growing fright- 
fully hungry. Reluctant to touch the filthy morsel. 
I paid no attention to it for some minutes but finally 
took courage to pick it up. There was a little water 
in a can near at hand, and I took some of it in my 
hand to wash off the bread. It happened that he 
passed the tent again as I was doing this. He rushed 
at me furiously and made a stab at me with his bay- 
onet. Fortunately I moved in time, and the point 
only tore through my clothes and pricked me rather 
hard on my left side, only tearing the skin. 

"I'll teach you to wash your bread!" he roared. 
"We're not clean enough for you, are we?" 

The man finally left and I found myself eating that 
bread, the most revolting food that had ever passed 
my lips. As it grew duskier a troop of some thirty 
or forty men came along, who had not been in this 
place since my arrival. I heard the word "English" 
mentioned, and some of them came and peered into 
the tent. They picked up stones and brickbats and 
threw them in but, as it was somewhat dark, they did 



FREE AT LAST 211 

me little harm. I had taken refuge behind the pole 
and only one or two struck me. 

It had begun to rain a little, and the bitter cold and 
dampness, as well as my awful anxiety for my son, 
prevented me from having more than fitful moments 
of sleep. I did not feel as if I could possibly ever 
get warm any more. The chill struck through my 
bones and my teeth chattered. 

On the next morning, when it finally came, the men 
seemed restless and nervous, as if something was im- 
pending or they had cause for anxiety. They took 
more trouble than ever to come close to my tent and 
keep up a flood of filthy abuse and their bombardment 
with stones, with which, however, they seldom hit me. 
I feel thankful to this day that Germans don't prac- 
tise cricket or baseball. I had during all this time 
heard the distant roar of the never ending bombard- 
ment in the distance, but now it seemed to be coming 
nearer. 

About noon, looking through the Open end of the 
tent, I saw some aeroplanes coming in our direction. 
The Germans were firing at them rapidly. They ap- 
peared to me to be of the British type, though as to 
this I am not positive. I heard the crashing of ex- 
ploding bombs and, as I was looking, a terrible ex- 
plosion occurred in the mouth of the cave I had 
worked in, about fifty or sixty yards away. When 



212 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

the dust and dirt and smoke cleared off I could see 
that the place was a mass of debris. Fragments of 
rock had flown everywhere, many of them striking 
my tent. I was lying on my stomach on the ground, 
thinking that the next bomb might find me out. The 
machines passed away in the distance. However bad 
a scare they had given me, they served to keep my tor- 
mentors away. The soldiers had disappeared and 
hidden themselves somewhere or other, and they did 
not come around until dusk. They threw me another 
piece of bread. 

"That's the last you'll get from us," a man told me. 
''Tomorrow you'll be put away with a lot more Eng- 
lishmen." 

The wind had risen and seemed to keep the rain 
off. During the night a regular gale began to blow 
and I felt colder than ever. The expectation of be- 
ing executed the next morning was no great comfort. 
It would end my worries, of course, but the method of 
so doing hardly appealed to me. I slept as badly as 
usual, and must have presented a fairly haggard ap- 
pearance when the morning came. The tent had been 
nearly blown down. The soldiers appeared to be 
making ready to leave but one of them rushed over 
to me. 

"You've been trying to pull that tent down!" he 
shouted. 

"No, it's the wind," I sought to explain. 



FREE AT LAST 213 



"Don't you answer me!" he yelled with an oath 
and lifted the butt of his rifle to strike me. 

I saw the blow coming and lifted my arm above 
my head to ward it off". The heavy butt crashed down 
and I felt the bones of my right forearm splintering. 
The guy-ropes and central post of the tent had been 
loosened by the gale to such an extent that my effort 
to move backward caused my leg that was tied to the 
post to give this a powerful pull. The heavy post 
came down, stunning me, and the tent collapsed over 
me. The man had jumped away, I presume, and I 
have no doubt that he thought I had been killed. 

How long I lay unconscious I have not the slightest 
idea of. When I finally regained my senses I began 
to feel a terrible pain in my shattered arm. I rose 
to a sitting position, holding the injured limb and 
unable to keep from moaning. I had to ask myself 
why they didn't kill me outright, for the suffering was 
unbearable. Looking about me to see where the sol- 
diers were I was surprised to see none of them. They 
had utterly disappeared. I had no doubt they would 
return soon and remained as I was, rather wishing that 
the soldier's threat had been executed. Finally I be- 
gan to feel that the Huns were perhaps not going to 
return. If they thought I was dead they would no 
longer trouble about me, and the idea that I might 
escape after all struck me all of a heap. 

The falling of the pole had uprooted the buried end 



214 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

of it and I managed to slip the chain over it. No 
longer was I tied like a dog to its kennel, but I still 
had to bear the chain as there was no means of un- 
locking the fastening. The canvas of the tent had 
been torn in a good many places. Putting down my 
foot upon a piece of it I managed with my left hand 
to tear a long strip of it off. Then, resting my injured 
arm upon a block of stone that had been close by, I 
managed to bind it around and around, as tightly as 
I could bear it. The exertion this cost me seemed to 
exhaust my strength, and I had to lie down for a time, 
feeling nearly dead to the world. How long this 
period lasted I don't know. My impression is that 
perhaps an hour elapsed thus. Presently my heart 
thumped violently. I heard the voices of Germans, 
not far away. I jumped to my feet, as best I could. 
On the ground I saw some pieces of rain-sodden bread 
which I picked up and put in my left pocket. After 
this, bending low, I ran towards the quarry. Fifty 
or sixty yards away from the opening that had been 
filled in by the explosion of the bomb there was an- 
other entrance into which I crept. I found that it 
was a sort of cave in which mushrooms had formerly 
been cultivated, as is the frequent custom in that part 
of the country. I had no doubt that if the men who 
were coming were my brutish acquaintances they 
would soon institute a search for me and finish their 
job. I crept further and further into the cave until 



FREE AT LAST 215 

I was in nearly complete darkness, but the dimmest 
rays of light coming in from the entrance. I felt the 
side of the cave and came to a place where water 
trickled down rather fast, so that I determined to re- 
main there so that I should not suffer from thirst. A 
yard or so further on I found that the ground was 
fairly dry. The floor of the cave, at this place, was 
strewn with a great deal of old rubbish. Among 
other things were some sacks, that had perhaps served 
to bring in the earth and compost used for growing 
the mushrooms. Fearing to be discovered I lay down 
against the wall and pulled a lot of this stuff over my- 
self until I was nearly buried in it. 

I lay there for perhaps an hour, hearing vague 
sounds outside, from time to time. Later on these 
were more distinct, and several times I saw shadows 
passing in front of the opening. They were search- 
ing for me, I was certain now and my heart beat again 
fast with the tenseness of my situation. They had 
searched under the canvas of the tent, not being sure 
that I had been killed, and when they failed to find 
me they hastened to hunt for me. It was fortunate 
for me that they carried no lights, as finally they en- 
tered the cave, groping around it, poking in nooks 
and corners with their guns and bayonets. Finally a 
couple of them reached within a yard or two of where 
I was, expecting every moment to be discovered. 
They felt the rubbish under their feet, and actually 



216 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

pulled away at some of it and poked into it with their 
bayonets. I heard some of the old decayed sacking 
that was over me tearing away, and I held my breath. 
But the man rose from his crouching position, evi- 
dently satisfied that I was not there. Slowly they 
moved away and I saw them going out through the 
mouth of the cave, perhaps thirty or forty yards away. 
Fortunately for me I did not move, for perhaps a 
half an hour later they came again. This time, how- 
ever, they did not search much. I could see that they 
had brought in something rather bulky, which they 
laid down on the floor of the cave. Later on they re- 
turned for whatever this was. For a few minutes they 
stood there, talking excitedly among themselves, and 
finally left for good. After this the passage of time 
was hardly in my power to estimate. It seemed to 
me that many hours went by, but I was still afraid to 
move out of the cave. Finally thirst compelled me to 
move to where the water was running down the wall. 
In the hollow of my left hand, used over and over 
again, I collected enough to slake my thirst. By this 
time I felt that I was burning with fever. I had 
to keep on wetting my hand and passing it over my 
brow and face. In spite of my burning temperature 
I felt hungry and ate some of the damp bread I had 
picked up, that must have been plentifully seasoned 
with dirt. The rats that were scurrying about, con- 
stantly, would doubtless gladly have shared my feast. 



FREE AT LAST 217 



Later on, when this small provision was exhausted, 
I groped about for remnants of mushrooms, of which 
I found a few, since some of them will keep on com- 
ing out even upon beds that have been abandoned for 
some time. I ate these things, hungrily enough, for 
all their earthy and rather unpleasant taste. 

The mouth of the cave grew darker and darker, till 
finally I could no longer distinguish it, and knew that 
the night had come. I tried hard to sleep. Nearly 
always, however, as soon as I lost consciousness I 
would be awakened again by a terrible pain in my 
arm. Then the thought of my poor Freddie would 
return to harrow my feelings and I would picture the 
misery and anxiety in my home in Gouvieux, till I 
felt that my mind must give way. 

A few times, as I lay awake, I could hear the rats 
licking up the water, but they did not molest me in any 
way, nor was I afraid of them, for the dangers I had 
undergone were too great for me to think of such 
trivial things as rat-bites. 

In the morning I struggled up and shook some of 
the rubbish off me, taking a long drink. My arm 
seemed to hurt about as badly as ever, and my fever 
had left me and given way to a terrible chilliness. I 
crept to the mouth of the cave, after listening for some 
time, and looked around, carefully, just putting my 
head out. Seeing no one I finally stood up. When I 
looked at myself I was shocked at my condition. My 



218 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

unshaven face I could not see, of course, but my filthy 
hands, my clothing utterly hidden by grime, made me 
feel like the sorriest tramp that ever slept under a 
hedge. 

For a time I sat outside, having seen or heard no 
one, and wondered whether I had better try to get 
away from this place, in which nothing but starvation 
could be looked forward to. After perhaps a half an 
hour I heard shooting, that seemed to draw nearer 
and nearer. This led me to get back to my place of 
concealment. The firing presently, seemed to be tak- 
ing place very near me. I saw shadows swiftly pass- 
ing in front of the opening. 

Suddenly, as I finally crept back a little nearer, I 
heard a voice that caused my heart to leap. 

"Never mind me, lads, go on and give them hell!" 

Yet I dared not go out, as the shooting was still 
violent and I feared that my sudden appearance might 
be taken for that of a Hun and greeted by a bullet. 
But I came nearer the entrance. A few moments 
later some of the Tommies came in. I stood close to 
the wall and shouted : 

'Don't shoot, lads, I'm English!" 

'Here's the boy's father!" yelled one of them. 

At this I staggered out, half crazed with joy and 
yet fearing to hear bad news of Freddie. A number 
of Germans were lying dead on the ground and, I re- 
gret to say, three Englishmen, of whom one was a 



"] 



FREE AT LAST 219 

captain, so badly wounded that he soon died, and two 
men less grievously hurt. 

One of the men came running to me. 

"My God !" he yelled. "Look at what they've done 
to that boy's poor father!" 

Indeed I must have been a sight. 

"What do you know about my boy?" I cried. 
"What's happened to him? Tell me quick!" 

They told me that they had seen a boy flying down 
a road on a bicycle and had stopped him. He had 
answered them in English. He was terribly excited 
and could only stammer, they said. His story was 
that his father had been taken prisoner and was kept 
separated from him. Then the Germans had sent 
him again down the road, following him. He had 
reached a place where there was a cross road. On 
one side it led down a steep long hill. The soldier 
following him was some distance away, so he had 
dashed down, pedalling for dear life, and had kept on 
going till the English, with some French soldiers 
among them, had halted him on the road. He care- 
fully described the place where I was being held and 
gave minute directions in regard to reaching it, telling 
also all about the Germans there, their number and 
what they had been doing. 

I heard afterwards that a French soldier had 
handed him a bottle containing some wine and water 
and that an Englishman had given him a tin of bully- 



220 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

beef. Then they had told him that they would try 
to rescue his dad but that he had better go on his 
way as fast as he could for they expected some fight- 
ing at any moment. 

The men who found me at the cave were kindness 
itself. One of them gave me some biscuit and an- 
other brought me water. After this they told me to 
wait a little, questioning me in regard to what I had 
undergone. Soon afterwards they took me a short 
distance and showed me a little valley, at the bottom 
of which I should find a gun-carriage. On reaching 
this I was to tell the men to take me along with them 
till they were near the village of Herein where they 
would leave me to walk a short distance while they 
went on to a cantonment whence they were to bring 
back stretchers and a wagon for the wounded. 

I thanked my rescuers how fervently I need not 
say, and started to the gun-carriage, perhaps a couple 
of hundred yards away. Two Frenchmen were in 
charge. Four mules were harnessed to this affair, 
which started at a good fast trot, one of the men 
sitting beside me with an arm about my waist, fearing 
that in my weakened condition I should not be able to 
hold on. The jolting was fiendish and the torture of 
it makes me shudder to this day, but we covered the 
ground fast and, after going some four or five miles, 
we stopped. I could see the village in a valley below 
me, perhaps four hundred yards away. I thanked 



FREE AT LAST 221 



the men and started down a footpath. In spite of 
pain and exhaustion I was filled with joy at the idea 
that my boy was safe. This, I think, gave me greater 
happiness than anything else I ever experienced, and 
I managed to walk fairly briskly down to Herein, 
holding on to my arm which I had slung in a bit of the 
chain I still had to bear along, and which I had 
passed over my shoulder. 



CHAPTER XVII 

HOME 

In Mercin I went up the steps of the Mairie and sat 
down on the top one, for a moment's rest till the pain 
that had become so shrewd during my trip on the car- 
riage should quiet down a little. 

An old gentleman with a long white beard came out 
of the building and asked me where I came from and 
what had happened to me. This I explained, briefly, 
and he took me across the little square into a sort of 
cafe. Within it was an old couple. The man went 
off on some errand but his wife treated me with a 
kindness I shall never forget. She loosened the band 
I had tied about my forearm, and exclaimed in horror 
at the sight of the bones all askew. 

"It's broken!" she cried. 

The dear old lady went off and got some water, with 
which she washed my face and hands, as best she 
could. It was no small undertaking. When this was 
finished she got some strips of strong cardboard with 
which she made splints of a sort, wrapping them 
around with wet paper which she covered over with a 
bandage torn from an old tablecloth. Her hard and 

222 



HOME 223 

gnarled fingers were not very skilful, but their ten- 
derness and gentleness with which her poor shaky 
hands toiled for me was very wonderful. She gave 
me hot coffee and a bit of black bread, which I de- 
voured thankfully. She insisted on my telling her 
some of my experiences and her kindness had been 
such that I could not possibly refuse. In the midst 
of my tale a young man entered, calling for gasoline 
but hardly expecting to be able to find any. He was 
in the uniform of an aviator, all wrapped up in the 
heaviest clothing, and had just landed in a neighbour- 
ing field. His face, I thought, was somewhat fa- 
miliar. 

"Why! Is that you, Mitchell?" he suddenly cried 
in French. 

I recognized him as a former acquaintance in an 
automobile factory in Paris. To his delighted sur- 
prise he was able to obtain the gasoline he needed. 
The old lady had been volubly explaining to him my 
troubles and sufferings, and he asked me how I ex- 
pected to get home. 

I answered that the Germans had my bicycle and 
had naturally confiscated the money in my pockets 
when they had searched me, so that I supposed there 
was nothing left for me but walk and beg for food 
on the way. 

"You've flown a number of times, haven't you?" 
he asked me. 



224 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

I answered that I had. 

"Will you risk it?" 

I was only too delighted at that offer. He begged 
me never to say who had taken me up, since it was 
strictly forbidden and he would not have thought of 
doing it if I had not been in such a terrible plight. 

His machine was soon supplied with the gasoline 
he had procured. He strapped me across the thighs 
and breast, after which he started his motor and 
climbed in. A few seconds later we were off. I had 
fervently thanked the dear old lady. Thank Heaven! 
There were no ruts or rough spots in this ride. He 
made a few detours around places where we would 
have been likely to be saluted by German anti- 
aircraft guns, and in about an hour made a smooth 
landing on the course in Chantilly known as "Les 
Aigles." He unstrapped me and helped me out and 
before a crowd could assemble he was up in the air 
again and on his way to Paris. 

I walked off down the Gouvieux hill, meeting a 
couple of young stable-boys on bicycles who stopped, 
astounded, and asked if I was Mr. Mitchell. I con- 
firmed their well-founded suspicion and they said 
they had heard I was a prisoner, to which I answered 
that I was one no longer. I was too anxious to go on 
to stop for any conversation. 

The old doctor in Gouvieux had returned there and 
I immediately went up to his house. His astonish- 



HOME 225 

ment at seeing me was unbounded. He also thought 
me a prisoner, or more probably a dead man. I must 
have looked rather badly for he rushed off for a glass 
of claret for me. After I had swallowed this he did 
his best to set the broken bones, causing me indescrib- 
able pain, and splinted and bandaged my arm. I was 
eager to go home at once but he wouldn't hear of it. 

"It's going to be a terrible shock to them to see you 
in this condition," he told me. "Let me send word to 
them that you are saved, and in the meanwhile you 
can rest a little and have something to eat with me." 

We had something to eat, of which I had stood in 
great need, and as we were eating he happened to see 
my daughter passing in front of his house. He left 
me in the dining room and called out to her that he 
wanted to see her. 

"Have you heard from your father, my child?" 
asked the good old man. 

"No," answered Florence. "Mamma says we 
shall never see him again." 

At this she began to weep and the doctor put his 
hand on her head. 

"I'm sure you will see him again," he assured her. 
"You will see that he will certainly get back." 

"Mamma told Freddie it was his fault that Daddy 
was dead," she cried again. "He was always want- 
ing father to go off and hunt for relics and see the 
battle-grounds." 



226 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

"You're going to see your father very soon," he 
told her again. "You're going to see him, I give you 
my word." 

"He's been taken a prisoner so often," said the 
child. "This time they will never let him go." 

He told her again that she would see me very soon, 
in fact, in a minute or two, and gave me a signal to 
come in. I entered the room. At first she was un- 
able to recognize me, owing to my face that had been 
unshaven so long, but finally, crying out her joy, she 
rushed to me and put her arms about me. The child 
wept and laughed at the same time and her delight 
showed clearly that all hope of ever seeing me again 
had been abandoned in my home. 

A boy on a bicycle, one of the two I had met on 
the way to the doctor's, chanced to pass by and the 
doctor called him. 

"Please go over to Mr. Mitchell's house and get 
Freddie, but say nothing to his mother," the old gen- 
tleman asked him. 

The lad started in a hurry and rang the bell at my 
home. My wife answered it and the little chap asked 
for Freddie. 

"What do you want him for?" asked my wife. 

"I have a commission for him from Chantilly," an- 
swered the lad. 

My wife called Freddie and the boy drew him 
apart. 



HOME 227 

"The doctor wants you at his house," said the mes- 
senger, in a low voice. "I — I think your father has 
come back." 

But my wife overheard a little of this and rushed 
up to them. 

"What is that you said?" she asked, excitedly. 

"Well — I — I thought I saw Mr. Mitchell come down 
in an aeroplane on the Aigles," replied the boy. 

"Run quick and see, Freddie!" she exclaimed. "I 
dreamt last night that I saw your father coming home 
in an aeroplane." 

Freddie came running up just as I came out and 
stood on the door-sill. He rushed at me and kissed 
me. 

"Dear Dad! How did you ever manage to get 
away?" he cried. 

The boy was beside himself with joy. We walked 
home and as he jostled me a little Florrie called out 
to him to be careful on account of my arm, and imme- 
diately he questioned me about that, eagerly. 

I need say little about my return home. It seemed 
a place little nearer Heaven than any I had ever en- 
tered before, and my wife's joy and emotion I cannot 
describe. 

A cup of tea was brewed for me at once, and be- 
tween sips I had to tell my experiences. I was ever 
so anxious to hear Freddie's account of his adven- 
tures, but I was not given a chance. My good friends 



228 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

of the village trooped in, the good Cure foremost 
among them, and almost smothered me in their joy 
at my return. 

"I told them all to have faith," said the priest. "I 
prayed so hard that you be allowed to come back, and 
asked the people in church to pray also. I knew we 
would see you again!" 

After they left I had to submit not only to more 
demonstration of joy and affection but also to a little 
scolding for my rashness in venturing so far. 

It was only in the morning that I was able to go 
off into the paddocks and hear from Freddie all about 
his experiences. 

"After I left you on the second morning," he told 
me, "I was watching a chance to escape, since you 
had begged me to do so if I could manage it. The 
Germans had another camp some distance away and, 
in order to go there, they had to pass over an open 
road. They were afraid to draw the fire of French or 
English troops that might be about, and didn't want 
them to know they were there. So I was made to take 
messages and things back and forth. The French 
would think I was just some French peasant boy and 
make sure that everything was all right, since I was 
not molested. They sent me twice to Mercin to get 
tobacco for them. The only kind there was was some 
terrible chewing-tobacco some of the old peasants 
used. The Germans called it "Kill At Two Hundred 



HOME 229 

Yards," but were glad enough to have it. I looked 
at that hill as I went by it, and felt that a fellow ought 
to go a mile a minute down that steep road. With a 
good start nothing could catch one on such a grade. 
I made up my mind that the next chance I had to try it 
I would just make a dash for it. You can't believe 
what cowards those Germans are. Dad, when they 
think that some one may shoot at them. They never 
dared to show themselves on the open road unless I 
was ahead of them. If all the men in that army were 
like that it would be little trouble to lick them. 

"So my chance came and I got away. They had 
told me that if I tried to escape there would be a lot 
of Germans farther on who would get me and kill me. 
But it was the only chance there was. They didn't 
see me turn sharp to one side and fly down that hill. 
I expected to hear bullets whizzing after me, but they 
never shot. The fellow who had come behind me had 
stopped at the side of the road to wait for me. I hope 
he's waiting yet, Dad. 

"And then when I got to the bottom of the hill I 
was just flying, and a little farther on I heard the 
order to halt and made up my mind that everything 
was up with me, and that they would shoot me at once. 
But when I found that they were English and French 
I was nearly crazy with joy. So I told them all I 
knew, and they gave me something to eat and I rode 
on, fast as I could. So I went on to Compiegne and 



230 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

rode through it, but it was getting late and there was 
some people at a little village on the other side. 
They were awfully good to me, and gave me some- 
thing to eat and a bed in the house. They woke me 
up very early, and one of them fixed up my bike and 
oiled it all ready for me to start, while I was having 
something to eat. So I thanked them and started off 
again, riding as fast as I could, and got here early. 
I was glad enough to escape, of course. Dad, but I 
felt terrible to think that you were still there, and that 
perhaps they had killed you. 

"You ought to have seen how excited every one was 
when I got back. Dad. It made them feel that per- 
haps you would be able to get away too. Of course I 
had to tell Mamma everything, and how they treated 
you, and she felt awfully about it and cried, dread- 
fully." 

Thus I heard my plucky boy's tale. Many lads 
have had strange happenings in this war, and many 
have indeed lost their lives, but I think I may say that 
few could have acted with greater courage and with 
better judgment. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

AFTER ALL 

After a while the pain began to diminish in my 
arm, and in good time I could ride a bicycle again, 
using the one belonging to my wife. The trips I be- 
gan again to bring back from Paris many necessary 
things were taken on the train, of course. 

A short three miles away from us there was estab- 
lished a hospital in Lies, in a large castle there. The 
staff of doctors, the nurses, the drivers of ambulances, 
were all women. The place had been opened by 
General French's sister, who subsequently went to 
Salonica where I believe she was seriously wounded. 

The ambulances were constantly passing through 
our village now, and sometimes stopped at our door. 
The sight of all the poor wounded was a sad one, that 
we could never get accustomed or callous to. I have 
seen blood dropping from the automobile ambulances 
as they passed, and the moans of the wounded were 
painful indeed to hear. 

I was able to undertake some little commissions 
for this devoted band of workers, in Paris and else- 

231 



232 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

where, and often had occasion to visit the hospital, 
where splendid work was being done. When I left 
they had about eight hundred beds occupied, and I 
heard that these women surgeons were undertaking 
and carrying through brilliantly some very wonderful 
operations. The convalescents were loud in praise 
of the care and treatment they had received. 

The close shave we had on our trip through Com- 
piegne did not altogether cure my boy and myself of 
the desire to keep on seeing something of the country 
towards the battle-lines, and it may be that at some 
further time our further adventures may be told^ 
should they prove of sufficient interest. The cold 
weather was at hand and our poor people began to 
suffer severely from the lack of provisions and the 
scarcity of fuel. A great many of the trees that had 
been blasted by the artillery fire all through the coun- 
try were cut up for fire-wood, and helped out the situ- 
ation to some extent, but, naturally enough, the facili- 
ties for transportation were poor indeed. A few of 
the houses and chateaux had a stock of coal, laid in 
before the outbreak of the war, but no more could 
be procured, at any price. Many of the better class 
of dwellings were tenantless because they had been 
so looted and bespoiled that, in the absence of avail- 
able labour, they could not be put in order. The 
majority of my friends, as well as myself, had no coal 
whatever on hand, and suffered keenly that winter. 



AFTER ALL 233 



The food question became very acute, for the blowing 
up of bridges and the destruction of roads caused rail- 
road communications to be kept up with the greatest 
difficulty. I was fortunate enough to procure a load 
of coke, which helped us out greatly during the cold 
weather. 

Eventually the General Staff became established in 
Chantilly, which soon became a busier place than it 
had ever been in peace times. Soldiers on bicycles, 
in automobiles, and even in aeroplanes, scurried 
through, carrying messages and delivering orders. 
Uniforms of all countries were in evidence. No one 
was allowed to land in the place without a special 
passport from Paris, and all arrivals were closely 
scrutinized. 

The Germans, of course, were not long in ignorance 
of the General Staff's location. Chantilly was in the 
main line of direct travel from Paris to the east and 
northeast, and aeroplanes began to come over us very 
frequently. Aerial combats between the Boches and 
French and English were sometimes of daily occur- 
rence. Bombing of our villages was industriously 
kept up and the populations lived with their hearts in 
their mouths. In the evening the firemen's alarm bell 
would sometimes toll out a warning. This meant that 
Zeppelins had been sighted on their baby -killing ex- 
peditions. They were not chary of dropping their 
missiles anywhere, however, and the tolling was a 



234 FRED MITCHELUS WAR STORY 

signal for the people to seek shelter in caves and cel- 
lars. 

Our lights were ordered to be all out by six o'clock 
in the evening, and woe-betide the neglectful house- 
wife who failed to obey. Aeroplanes would sight the 
offending lamp or candle and presently an automobile 
would come around. Fines and even imprisonment 
were rigorously imposed. 

One evening we were greatly surprised to hear a 
disturbance at our door. The bell was rung and men 
rushed in and asked whether we had a light burning. 
We assured them that we had not, and they searched 
for a moment. I suggested other places they might 
look over and advised them to go around at the other 
side of the church. One of these men was an avia- 
tor, and I asked him to come out in my paddocks, 
where perhaps he could locate somewhat better the 
position of the lights which he had seen. He fol- 
lowed me there and looked about him. 

"I'm afraid I'll have to give up the search tonight," 
he said, "but I see that I am not on the proper side of 
the church. 

He asked me to walk with him around the church, 
which I was only too glad to do, and had a long look 
around. The errand was fruitless, however, and 
nothing was discovered. For several nights he tried 
and saw the offending lights again from his plane. 
The spies at work, however, could see the plane and 



AFTER ALL 235 



watch it come down. This was a signal for them to 
disappear. At last my acquaintance sent another 
man to perform the same evolutions and entered a 
place we had suspected while the machine was yet 
high up in the air. He found two men at work on a 
wireless apparatus, who were immediately taken off 
to Chantilly and there doubtless disposed of according 
to the laws of warfare. 

Such incidents were frequent all over France, as 
well as in every other allied country. I believe that 
they have not been unknown in America. Spying, 
with the Germans, had undoubtedly engaged the serv- 
ices of some of the best brains among them. It 
doubtless requires no small degree of courage for 
those who are caught at it generally get a very short 
shrift. But it is characteristic of the nation that their 
best men should always be at work, toiling away at 
all forms of deceit and ever conspiring, during peace- 
times and in war, to bring about the undoing of other 
nations. None — absolutely none are safe from them, 
at any time. 

The food question became more and more urgent, 
and I was having an exceedingly hard time to find 
enough to keep my poor animals from starving to 
death. Fortunately, some of the people who had 
left their pets with me came back for them, so that 
the number I had to look out for diminished. Strict 
rationing of the people became the order of the day. 



236 FRED MITCHELL^S WAR STORY 

Only so much could be obtained for each person. 
The secretary at the Mairie told me that I must get 
rid of most of my dogs, since such animals used food 
that could serve to keep human beings alive. 

I recognized the necessity for such orders, but the 
command was a heart-breaking one, after the terrible 
toil I had endured in my effort to save them. Not 
only were they real friends but they also represented 
most of my little fortune, which I had invested in the 
very finest specimens of many breeds, many of them 
well-known prize-winners. This was a period of 
black misery for me. Day by day I was compelled 
to pick out the poor things and chloroform them to 
death till I had killed some forty of them. It was a 
task that actually made me shed tears to have to dig 
trenches and bury them. I went around in the coun- 
try and in the villages to beg bits of bread that could 
be spared by the soldiers and others, and bring them 
back with me to the kennels. Potato-peelings, odd 
bits of vegetables, bones already picked nearly clean, 
went into the pots where I tried to make some sort 
of soup with which I could keep the remainder alive. 
The largest animals naturally had the largest appe- 
tites, so that they were sacrificed first. Finally, hav- 
ing twenty of them left, I went to Garches, near St. 
Cloud, taking them over in an auto-truck. The place 
is on the other side of Paris, and a Canadian camp 



AFTER ALL 237 



had been established there. For a time I was able 
to get a little refuse food from the kitchens of this 
large cantonment, but after a while even this source 
of supply failed me, and I had to kill off more of my 
dogs until but eight were left out of eighty-seven that 
I had actually owned. These eight were left to be 
taken care of by some one else, when I came to Amer- 
ica. The latest news I have is to the effect that but 
one of them remains. 

Thus I was compelled to kill and inter most of what 
represented the savings of years. It was probably 
the hardest and shrewdest blow of all. 

I came to the United States with the hope of making 
arrangement for a series of exhibitions for the benefit 
of the Red Cross. My plans have met with many 
unforeseen delays and I have used some of my en- 
forced leisure in bringing together the materials for 
this book. I said in the beginning that I could not 
put down one-tenth of the horrors I have seen and 
experienced. The great majority of the events re- 
lated here occurred in the presence of a large enough 
number of witnesses to make it easy for me to corrobo- 
rate nearly everything that I have put down. 

I feel compelled to give a single instance, however, 
of the hundreds of incidents I have been compelled 
to keep out of these pages. In a little village some 
thirty miles away from my home, which was occu- 



238 FRED MITCHELL'S WAR STORY 

pied by Germans, a horror stricken man told me to 
glance into a butcher's shop, without pretending to 
do so, if I could help it. 

The Boches had slaughtered many sheep and had 
the carcasses hanging up in the shop. Among them 
I saw a dead naked baby boy depending from one of 
the meathooks, hanging with his poor little head 
down. 

I am quite sure that the only object of the Huns 
in doing this was to impress the inhabitants with terror 
at their savagery — but this is the sort of thing I have 
seen with my own eyes. 

In my time I have ridden some five hundred win- 
ning horses and yet have never wagered a penny. I 
have always been known as a temperate and trust- 
worthy man and I hope to win races again. I cannot 
afford to have my honesty and integrity doubted. In 
the tales I have told there is the truth and nothing but 
the truth, mitigated in most instances so that this 
should not be deemed a volume of horrors. The peo- 
ple who disbelieve me will be of the kind who refuse 
to accept evidence of any sort. It is fortunate that 
they can be but few in numbers. 

I met one decent German, and only one, and I hope 
I have given him proper credit for the propriety of 
his conduct. But I greatly suspect that there must 
have been truth in the other officer's statement that he 
was of Alsatian or Lorraine origin. 



AFTER ALL 239 



It is a new form of warfare that we are beholding 
now, in which savage brutality has been made the 
chief element of expected victory. Warriors of be- 
nighted countries may slay women and children dur- 
ing raids on an enemy village, but I doubt if they 
usually put them to the sword after the coveted hovels 
are conquered. It remained for the Huns to improve 
not only on the methods of their forebears but also 
on those of the fiercest tribes of the dark continents. 



THE END 



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